24 Hours of Summers
by usa123
Summary: Tony and Abby are held hostage in Abby's lab. Will Gibbs be able to save them before the FBI HRT rushes the lab? Will Vance comply with the criminals' demands to ensure his agents' safety? No slash, no ships.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. *deep sigh* Is it September yet?

**A/N: **The title is supposed to read: _(24) Hours of Summers_, like a certain movie. More on that later.

* * *

"Hiya Abby!" Tony called as he walked into Abby's lab. It was a dark stormy morning, meaning Abby's lab looked considerably different under the florescent lights: less friendly, less Abby…he thought.

"TONNNNNYYY!" Abby dashed across the lab. Tony had only a second to brace himself for the bone-crushing vice that was coming. After a few seconds, he gratefully sucked in air as Abby released him. "How _are_ you? It feels like I haven't seen you in FOREVER!"

"First of all, I'm pretty sure you need to ask permission before you indulge in contact behavior like that last display. Do I need to call the DOD lady?" he questioned. Seeing Abby grinning evilly, he continued, "And second, Abby, it's only been a weekend—which, by the way, was _awesome_! I finally saw _Taken_ with my cousin who was in town and wow!" he reminisced gleefully, "_Taken_ was amazing! One of Liam's finest roles. I don't think my cousin's going to let her daughter out of her sight for—"

"Haven't seen it," Abby remarked dismissively. "I don't mean to be rude _but_ what are you doing here? You may not have cases but I'm swamped. Andrews has me running an analysis of some unknown substance, Kramer's got me re-running DNA because 'it didn't match the suspect's the first time'," she said using air quotes, "and Ducky's got me running some blood and tissue sample. Major Mass Spec hasn't had a break yet! He's going to need one soon because he's running a fever and making strange noises. Poor Major!"

"Gibbs sent me down with this," Tony produced a Caf-Pow! from behind his back, which had avoided damage during Abby's hug, "and to tell you that you did a good job on the last case."

"Why didn't he come himself? Not that I don't love seeing you down here," she backtracked, seeing Tony's slightly hurt expression, "You know that right?"

"He was called into an urgent video conference in MTAC. The Toothpick came down to personally escort Gibbs to ensure he'd be there. He almost had to threaten Gibbs' pension!"

The phone rang. Abby bounced back to her lab table and put the call on speakerphone. "Abby Scuito, forensics extraordinaire and Caf-Pow aficionado, at your service!" she called excitedly.

"Miss Scuito, we have a visitor for you. Lieutenant Dale Summers and his partner Jeff Jerome from Baltimore PD. Say they have evidence for you regarding Special Agent Davis' case…" the NCIS Security Guard reported.

"OH! I wasn't expecting them for another hour. He's okay, Darla. Davis called me yesterday to tell me Summers and Jerome were bringing evidence from a related cold case."

"You have to escort them up," Darla replied.

Abby turned to Tony. "Can you escort him up for me? Puh-lease? I'm really busy." She motioned to her completely filled lab table.

"Don't worry Abby! Tony DiNozzo is on the job. I'll get them for you! Back in a flash!" He dashed out of the lab in true superhero fashion, leaving Abby typing madly at the computer.

"Hmmm. BPD. Summers and Jerome. Don't think I know them," Tony pondered, muttering aloud on the way down to security.

* * *

There was something about the two of them that didn't sit right with Tony. The way they walked, held themselves, acted toward NCIS, and acted toward him. He was Anthony DiNozzo, and though he didn't like to brag, he had left quite the legacy at Baltimore PD. Yet, these guys acted as if Tony was the same as the scum they arrested on a daily basis.

"So, you guys work with Officer Friendly at one time?" Tony asked the question to see if he could trick up the men, knowing full well Friendly had retired last year.

"Yea. We closed our last case with him. But, Tony?"

"Ya?" Tony answered halfheartedly, wondering what these guys hoped to accomplish by pretending to be BPD cops.

"I need you to hand over your ID and cell phone."

Tony scoffed. "Why would I do that?" he snickered until he felt a gun being poked into his back. He unconsciously reached for his own before realizing it was in his desk drawer. "You're not serious?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes we are, DiNozzo," the one called Summers said. "Hand me your phone and ID. Slowly."

Tony unclipped his phone and ID, slowly handing them over. Jerome turned off the phone and put both in his backpack while Summers patted down Tony finding his loaded ankle holster, which was emptied and handed over to Jerome as well.

"Interlace your hands behind your head. When we get out, walk quietly into Abby's lab. Do not alert anyone you may see. Jerome will have his gun in easy reach."

The elevator opened onto the forensics' floor. Summers lead, nodding when the coast was clear. Tony took a quick look around and saw no one. _Shit_. _Where were all the agents when you needed them?_ Normally, you couldn't find privacy anywhere, even in the head.

Jerome gave him a poke in the back with his gun before draping a jacket over his gun to conceal it.

"Thanks Ducky!" Tony heard Abby call as they entered the lab. She turned as she heard people enter the lab silently. "Hey Tony!" she called, not receiving a response. Abby's eyes widened as she quickly assessed the situation, noting Tony's unusual silence and the stances of the two men flanking him. Tony saw her quickly and almost imperceptibly reach for the silent alarm as she understood what was happening. He barely nodded, acknowledging her move.

"No Miss Scuito. I wouldn't do that," Jerome threw away his coat dramatically to reveal the gun as Summers unholstered his as well.

Abby quickly threw up her hands as Jerome thrust the gun harder into Tony's back prodding him forward into Abby's computer table.

"You know," Tony remarked flippantly, "you could ask me to walk instead of poking me. It's easier and less painful."

Summers held Tony and Abby at gunpoint while Jerome closed all the blinds in the lab. Tony watched as Jerome pulled a small pair of bolt cutters out of his backpack, using them to cut the security camera's power and feed. Tony was really curious how Jerome had gotten those through security… Afterward, Jerome began to systematically turn off Abby's equipment.

"What the hell are you doing?" Abby screeched. "Those are valuable, multimillion dollar pieces of equipment! You can't just turn them off!"

"Relax!" Summers called. "Jerome works in a lab very similar to yours. I can assure you he knows what he's doing. Meanwhile, could you please engage lockdown procedures and secure the lab?"

Abby looked to Tony who nodded. She reluctantly pulled the small remote from a drawer and hit a button, dropping the solid metal wall over the door to her lab. The windows were covered as well.

"Why don't you let Abby go?" Tony remarked as a frowning Abby handed the remote to Summers who stuffed it in a pocket. "You don't need her."

_It never hurts to ask_…he thought, sizing up the enemy. Summers was smaller than Jerome, about Tony's height, but in very good shape. Jerome might have been juicing, for his muscles rivaled Corporal Damon Werth's, and—well, that'd ended with a broken nose for himself and a dislocated shoulder for McGee. Jerome'd be tough to beat in a one-on-one. Tony decided to wait to make a move until Jerome was out of the picture. Tony could probably take Summers; he _had_ beaten a Mossad assassin after all—even though said Mossad assassin was very, very hammered.

"I promise to be a rather good hostage," Tony tried again to have Abby released. "I promise to sit quietly without my usually witty banter and obediently obey the bulk of your sane and realistic orders." He paused for dramatic effect before continuing. "I will not, however, disclose the secret to KFC's fried wings which I accidentally learned during a case in Baltimore. And let me tell you," he turned to Abby, "you don't want to know—"

"Enough!" Summers cried. "She stays! She is every bit as crucial to the plan as you are, Mr. DiNozzo, though if you keep speaking, we'll have to resort to Plan B, which unfortunately, continues without you…You could not want to put Miss Scuito in that position would you?"

Tony sat back, temporarily silenced, running through possible escape plans in his head. None of them were currently plausible, and the ones he was thinking of were not guaranteeing that he or Abby would walk out of there alive.

Jerome finished powering down Abby's equipment, except for the bank of computers. He held the gun on Tony and Abby while Summers searched Abby. A look of surprise was on Summers' features when he found an ankle sheath. Tony's face mirrored Summers' when he saw Summers pull out a short, but still very deadly, knife.

Abby caught Tony's shocked look. "Ziva taught me after that guy impersonating a Federal Marshall tried to kidnap me, and Timmy's deranged fan tried to kill me," she shrugged.

Summers handed Jerome the knife and finished his search, his hands lingering a bit too long for Tony's liking. He made a small move to step forward, but Abby sent him a quick "cool it" stare.

Summers pulled a roll of duct tape out of his backpack and tossed it to Tony. "Take this duct tape and bind Miss Scuito's hands behind her. Tightly." Held at gunpoint, Tony had no choice but to catch the roll of tape. As he stood up, he saw Jerome working avidly at Abby's computers. He was accessing bank records, along with some other McGeeky stuff Tony didn't understand.

"I'm sorry Abby," he whispered in her ear as he taped her wrists as gently as possible.

"It's okay Tony," she said quietly, turning slightly toward him, her eyes full of fear.

"Enough chit-chat," Summers called angrily. "Come here DiNozzo," he motioned. Tony had no choice but to obey since Jerome had stopped working and had trained his gun on Abby. "Turn around." Tony did so, continually making eye contact with Abby and sending her reassuring glances. Summers taped Tony's wrists behind his back to tightly that he began to quickly loose circulation in his fingers. "There," Summers remarked satisfied.

"Now, Miss Scuito, I need you to call your director. Do not alert the receptionist in any manner or your friend will suffer the consequences."

"Do as he says Abby," Tony said reassuringly, not wanting any harm to come to his favorite forensic scientist; his words masked the small nod he sent her way. Her eyes quickly widened, signaling Tony that she understood.

"What's the extension?" Jerome asked, punching it in as Abby recited it, then putting it on speakerphone.

"Hi, Eloise. No, just listen. Please tell Director Vance I need to speak to him immediately. No, no. I'll hold. Yes. Thank you." Jerome hit the "hold" button, effectively cutting off the receptionist's sharp reply that Vance could not be disturbed.

Tony proudly noted how Abby had used the distress word so discreetly. Hopefully, receptionist Cynthia was up to snuff on the new code words. Most importantly, Tony was especially glad Abby was being so calm and collected—he wasn't sure what he'd do with a nervous wreck (it greatly limited all escape possibilities). It didn't really matter what harm came to him-he'd heal. Hell, he'd survived the plague. Nothing they could do to him would top that…at least he hoped not. As long as Gibbs' was warned somehow and Abby was safe, he'd be okay with anything they threw at him.

"Jerome will take it from here," Summers said to Abby. "You and DiNozzo go sit by your mass spectrometer." Tony and Abby did as asked, sitting backs to the Major, facing Abby's computers. They sat in silence for a minute, watching Summers pace and Jerome type madly. Tony began trying to loosen his bonds but was met with little success. Plan Two: He decided to keep Summers talking while they waited for Vance.

"Sooooo…Summers…while we're waiting for the big guy upstairs, let's clear the air. You're not with Baltimore P.D., I'd have bet my DVD collection on it the moment I saw you. So let's cut the crap. Who are you, where you're from, and maybe why you're here, for those playing along at home?" Tony announced in a game show host's voice.

"Always the smart ass, aren't we, DiNozzo? But, very good. What gave us away?"

Behind Summers, Tony saw the light on Abby's web cam switch from red to green. Computer expert he was not, but he was pretty sure green was a good thing, and if a web cam was anything like his DVD player, green meant 'on'.

"Well, Summers, there's a list. First, Friendly retired last year—I attended his retirement banquet. Two, you are Jerome and not cops. I used to work for Baltimore and there's no way they'd let scum like you on the force.

"So, what are you? Ex-Delta Force? Green Beret? The IMF? S.H.I.E.L.D.? Manticore? Oh God! Please don't tell me you're with Treadstone!" Tony exclaimed in a mocking tone.

Summers started angrily toward Tony, but was stopped by Vance's booming voice over the speakerphone. "This is Director Vance of NCIS. I demand to speak to one of my agents to ensure their condition."

"How does he know?" Summers cried to Jerome.

Summers turned to face Abby, anger raging in his eyes, while Jerome began typing madly on the keyboard. "You!" he pulled Abby into a standing position. "You've double crossed me! What have you done? How did he know an agent was down here?" Summers grabbed Abby tightly by the shoulders and began shaking her violently.

"Well, what did you want me to do? Send you flowers?" Abby retorted.

As Summers raised his hand to hit Abby, Jerome turned to look at the other computers for the source of the leak. This was Tony's opening. He was _not_ about to let Summers continue to hurt Abby.

Tony threw himself at Summers, knocking both of them into Abby's computer table. Summers involuntarily let go of his gun as his head slammed into the working web cam. Tony threw himself into Summers again as he saw Abby going for the gun, which had slid just out of Summers' reach. Jerome, who must have looked up at the crash, snagged the gun away from Abby at the last moment.

Summers flailed wildly under Tony, throwing Tony backward into Abby's refrigerator, shattering its glass door. Once he could see clearly again, Tony pulled his knees up to his chest, sliding his bound hands under and around him. He stood up with his bound hands in front of him, his movement causing glass shards to fly everywhere.

Tony was ready to charge Summers again, but stopped when he heard the sound of a gun being cocked. He looked up to see Jerome holding a gun to Abby's temple, his other hand firmly rested on Summer's gun next to the keyboards. Getting Abby shot was _not_ on today's agenda.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! That was not very nice, Mr. DiNozzo." Summers reached behind his head, his fingers coming away bloody. "Now, you will pay."

* * *

_What say you? Bonus points if you know what TV show(s) I was referencing in Tony's Treadstone speech or the movie I borrowed the title from (Gibbs-slap if you can't figure that one out)! :)_

_**A/N:**__ Yeah, I know. Eloise as a code word? Whatever. But seriously, are you going to have time to work in "Can you bring me some 'Mexican' food?" (like in Numb3rs) into a simple phone conversation? Yeah, I didn't think so either._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: This chapter's a little _Vantage Point_, but only in the beginning, because I had to get Ziva involved and couldn't work her into the first scene. I promise not to repeat everything, just the key details (if you were taking notes, these would be good things to include). There are important things that Gibbs and company see that Tony and Abby don't…and vice versa. Hey, a movie reference in the author's note…maybe I'm part DiNozzo after all…

**Trivia**: IMF (Impossible Mission Force) is from _Mission: Impossible_, S.H.I.E.L.D. (Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division) from any _Marvel_ Comic (_Iron Man_, in particular), Manticore is from _Dark Angel_, Treadstone is from the Bourne movies (everyone knew that one), and (24) Hours of Summers references _(500) Days of Summer_, but could obliquely reference _24_, though Jack Bauer will not appear in this story…Maybe next time.

* * *

To his credit, Tony held his ground while Summers approached him. If that gun wasn't still trained on Abby, he could have easily taken down Summers. He was fighting mad and was about to make the first move: a cardinal sin according to Don Diego de la Vega (the original, not the remake).

Summers punched Tony squarely in the nose, causing him to stagger to regain his balance. Tony was also hit by a punch to the gut, which left him gasping for air and a right cross to the jaw which knocked him to the ground and left him dazed. He heard Abby screaming and swearing at Summers in the background. As his vision returned, Tony looked up to see a blurry Summers kneeling next to him. Suddenly, he felt the cold metal of a gun in his neck and his senses went into overdrive, trying to rouse his body to make a defensive move if necessary.

"I should kill you," Summers hissed. Tony's breath caught in his throat as the gun was cocked and pushed further into his neck. "But I won't," Summers said, putting the safety back on. "Not yet anyways."

Tony saw the butt of the pistol headed toward his face but his already dazed body could not, and did not, respond. Tony felt a sharp pain in his jaw, followed by a rather impressive fireworks display, before the world went black.

* * *

As soon as Cynthia heard the distress word, she alerted Vance, who summoned Team Gibbs into MTAC—well, the remaining members of Team Gibbs. Tony was still probably down with Abby, making him a possible hostage. A gut feeling, along with the fact that Tony wasn't answering his phone, cemented the situation for Gibbs. Ziva was on an information recon mission for Vance and could not be currently interrupted until Vance decided the severity of the situation. Upon entering MTAC with only McGee, Gibbs informed Vance of Tony's whereabouts.

McGee was ordered to pull up the feed to the lab, and quickly discovered the disabled security camera. One Gibbs-slap later, he'd found the webcam and pulled up the feed on the main screen. Gibbs looked relieved—well, as relieved as a stoic Gibbs could look—when he saw DiNozzo and Abby unharmed. The assailant had his back to the webcam and Gibbs observed, half-smiling, as DiNozzo continued to aggravate the hell out of the man, while managing to disclose the names, plural, of the assailants. That meant there was more than one person in the room, not in the view of the camera.

Gibbs saw McGee tense up as Summers cruelly shook Abby and noted how McGee relaxed slightly when Tony tackled Summers away from his more-than-friend. Gibbs continued to watch as Summers' head collided with the webcam, leaving a long crack in the lens. Summers had unknowingly loosened the webcam from its perch, causing it to pivot downward, allowing MTAC to see Summers knock Tony into Abby's fridge. He watched helplessly as Summers knocked Tony to the floor, as Abby shrieked and tried to run over to her friend, and as Summers fixed his gun steadily on Abby to keep her from advancing.

Gibbs heard MTAC lapse into complete silence as Summers jammed his gun into Tony's throat, and heard the collective sigh of relief when their comrade remained alive, albeit unconscious. Despite the gravity of the situation, Gibbs couldn't help grinning as Abby, the sweet, forensic scientist who bowls with nuns and acquitted a dog from murder, began cussing out Summers while she ran over to Tony. He made note of some of her more colorful language for future use, perhaps the next time Fornell pulled his 'playing with the big boys' speech.

Something caught Summers' attention and he backed up, keeping both Tony and Abby in sight. The other man must have noticed the webcam and alerted Summers. Suddenly, Summers face filled the screen in MTAC.

"There is a plane leaving Moscow now. It needs to arrive here safely with full air clearance and a military plane escort. Your escort will pull off as the plane enters the US, so it can land in an undisclosed location. The stash will be unloaded anonymously and without police presence. There will be no police at any time, or your agents will die. Follow these orders and they will live. We will be in touch. You have twenty-four hours. Go." Summers stepped out of the frame. A sharp crashing sound followed by silence indicated the end of the audio feed. The video feed wobbled as Summers detached it from the computer and dropped it. Gibbs and company were allowed one final view of Abby bending over the still unconscious Tony before Summers presumably crushed the camera and the feed went dark.

* * *

The elevator dinged and Ziva David dashed into the squad room which was sans agents except for three huddled in a far corner.

"Agent Gibbs. Where is he?" she asked breathlessly.

"In MTAC," Agent Davis told her.

Ziva nodded her thanks and sprinted up the steps into MTAC.

"Gibbs!" she exclaimed, but was cut-off by Vance's raised hand, demanding her silence while he finished a conversation with the leader of the FBI's HRT. Ziva crossed her arms, and tapped her foot impatiently.

As soon as he had finished, Ziva demanded to know the situation.

"McGee called me," Ziva began, noticing Vance sending McGee a withering look. "I had to wait until Jardine came to relieve me. Was I not supposed to know?" she asked, in response to Vance's glare, turning to face the Director. "I had a right to know. I did not break protocol, in case you were wondering, but it took Jardine forever to clean her seat with those wipes and that little spray that comes in the can that is supposed to remove 99.9% of germs…"

"Lysol," McGee volunteered.

"Yes. That. Thank you McGee." Ziva turned back to Vance. "Do not blame McGee. I would have found out eventually. Then I would have dismembered McGee for _NOT_ informing me," Ziva stated, sending McGee a warning glare.

Gibbs couldn't help but grin while watching Ziva effectively cut off any reply from Vance while simultaneously making McGee look very uncomfortable.

"Again, Gibbs. What's the steal?"

"Deal," McGee interjected weakly as Ziva fixed him with another glare. She waved her hand dismissively, looking to Gibbs for an answer. Gibbs nodded to the MTAC tech and she replayed the footage for Ziva.

"What can we do?" she asked quietly as the feed ended.

"_You_ will do nothing except devise a plan for saving Miss Scuito and DiNozzo," Vance said 'DiNozzo' as if he were tasting something vile. "FBI HRT is en route with Fornell assisting by special request. I'll see what I can do about the escort."

"Meeting's over," Gibbs announced as they left MTAC. "McGee—"

"Get a feed into Abby's lab and run all security footage. Got it."

"Ziva."

"Talk to my contacts about the plane leaving Russia."

"Gibbs," Vance called. The Lead Agent turned around to see Vance standing outside of MTAC, having overheard their entire conversation. "What will you do?"

"I'm going to visit Ducky to get a psychological autopsy on these wackos. We need to know what they're thinking."

Vance nodded in agreement, leaving Team Gibbs to solve the crime. He, on the other hand, had some very important phone calls to make about a certain plane.

* * *

"You bastard!" As soon as Summers knocked Tony out, Abby ran to Tony's side, calling Summers every name she could think of. She realized she could do nothing with her hands tied behind her back. She used the same maneuver as Tony to get her hands in front of her, before getting up and standing directly in front of Summers.

"He's hurt," she stated bluntly, holding out her hands. "Untie me so I can help him or I'll have Charlie, Mike, Josephine and Rachel do it." Summers stared at her blankly. "I'm not going anywhere," Abby continued. "You've blocked the doors and hidden the remote…"

Summers thought for a moment before giving in.

"Clean him up. I cannot have him incapacitated before he fulfills his purpose," he decided, unwinding the duct tape around Abby's wrists.

Slightly unnerved by the eeriness of that comment, Abby turned her back on Summers, and headed into her private office where she grabbed the First-Aid kid, gloves and Bert. Summers looked ready to protest but Abby gave him a glare that would have made Gibbs proud.

"Who are Charlie, Mike, Josephine and Rachel?" Summers ventured after a moment.

"You don't name your teeth either," Abby shook her head disapprovingly. "Well, that explains a lot."

Abby went to work cleaning the blood off Tony's face. She picked the obvious shards of broken glass out of Tony's hair and cleaning the cuts before laying his head on Bert. Jerome and Summers gave each other puzzled looks at the strange noise emitting from Bert, but did not question. Abby also put a butterfly bandage on Tony's possibly broken nose to stem the bleeding. She looked down at his tightly duct taped hands which were turning purple from lack of blood flow.

"It's too tight," she announced, beginning to unwrap the duct tape.

"No. That's enough," Summers announced, motioning Abby away with his gun.

"No," she replied, staying firmly planted. "He needs his hands. Has to fire a gun, write reports, bring Caf-Pow!s, pinkie-promise..." Abby sniffled loudly and pretended to cry.

"You could put on the handcuffs instead," Jerome intervened with hopes of avoiding a crying hostage. Summers glared at him. "WHAT! He's not going anywhere and it'll keep this situation beneficial if she feels she owes us one…you know what I mean." Jerome's voice was barely a whisper. Summers thought long and hard before finally nodding his head.

"Fine!" he exasperated, turning back to Abby, who immediately stopped 'crying'. She unwrapped the duct tape, grabbed Tony's handcuffs off his belt and loosely tightened them around his wrists.

"Now, step away from him," Summers again motioned Abby away, while he went over to Tony. He bent down and slightly tightened the cuffs to ensure Tony could not escape.

"What are you gonna do now?" she asked with forced bravado. "We do not negotiate with terrorists. Gibbs is never gonna—"

"SHUT UP!" Summers spat, "or I will be forced to gag you. Trust me: I wouldn't normally do that to such a pretty thing as yourself." He ran his thumb along Abby's jaw, sending a shiver down her spine.

Abby pulled back spewing a stream of expletives. "Get away from me!"

"Just sit there in silence and nothing will happen to you. I promise," Summers said, walking back toward the computers.

Abby sat with her back to Major Mass Spec, as geographically far away from Summers as she could get. While she wanted nothing to do with these men, her curiosity got the better of her. She watched Jerome bring up official documents, bank records, and a link to a Cayman Island bank account, but was not close enough to catch any of the details.

Everyone in the lab was startled by the crackling of the walkie-talkie. Jerome pulled it off his belt and handed it to Summers, who went into Abby's office to have his conversation. His back was to Abby, making it impossible for her to read his lips. Jerome had stopped working, training his gun on Abby in Summers' absence.

The sliding door opened and Summers returned cackling gleefully.

_Tony…_ Abby thought as Summers fixed her with a creepy stare, _Now would be a really great time to wake up…_

* * *

_Chapter Two down. Let me know what you think of the latest developments!_

_Thanks to all who story alerted, favorited or reviewed! _


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Here's how the movie references are going to work for the rest of the story. I will use them often, sometimes without explaining them. Leave me a review with the movie or TV show, and we'll see how many you movie aficionados can get.

**DiNozzo-isms**: Don Diego de la Vega? Anyone? Anyone?

* * *

Throbbing pains just about everywhere and an intense freezing sensation brought Tony back to consciousness. He stifled an urge to groan, sensing he was being watched. The world swam as he forced his eyes open. He concentrating hard and managed to focus on the ceiling of Abby's lab.

Tony did a quick self-evaluation: he could breathe out of his nose, but it was fairly painful, meaning his nose was probably broken; his jaw ached but was in tact; and though the back of his head was throbbing, he probably didn't have a concussion. Someone—probably Abby—had done a good job cleaning him up (he felt the bandage on his nose and could no longer feel the sharp glass in his hair) and convinced their captors to remove the duct tape. His hands were now cuffed in front of him and Tony flexed his fingers experimentally, pleased with the result. A quick look around explained why he was freezing: he was lying right in front of Abby's refrigerator which no longer had a door. Jerome had thoughtfully kept on the power to the fridge so the blood and tissue samples would not begin to spoil.

With a superhuman effort, Tony managed to pull himself into a sitting position. Abby saw the motion and ran over to him. He noticed her hands were free and she seemed unharmed.

"Tony, are you okay?" she whispered.

"I'm fine, Abs. What about you?"

"One, I'm okay. They hurt you instead of hurting me, but Summers has been shooting me really creepy glares. So I'm _really_ glad you're awake. Two, you know what "fine" stands for, right? Freaked out—"

"Insecure, Neurotic, Emotional," Tony nodded. "Abby with the movie references! Are you sure they didn't transfuse you with some of my blood while I was under?"

Abby was glad Tony was down here with her—not that these were the circumstances under which she wanted to spend quality time with Tony—but he could always be counted on to make a crappy situation better. They were silent for a moment, watching Summers and Jerome work on the computers.

"What's been going on?" Tony questioned while moving away from the fridge and leaning up against one of Abby's tables.

"Our captors want military escorts for a plane leaving Russia, and the cargo to land safely. No police or" Abby drew her finger across her throat, "for you and me."

"Gibbs agreed to that?" Tony asked incredulously. "The plane, I mean, not the killing part."

"They haven't said. But it's Gibbs. He'll figure something out," Abby replied with more enthusiasm than she felt.

"What's Jerome been doing?" Tony questioned.

"He's been surfing the Internet and logging onto a lot of classified sites using my name and password. He's also logged into a Cayman Island account. Summers has been receiving calls over his walkie, but he goes into my private office to answer them and turns his back to me so I can't read his lips," she pouted, sticking out her bottom lip slightly.

"Don't worry Abby. You're doing great. We'll get out of here or my name isn't Tony DiNozzo," he reassured her with a smile.

"Cut the chatter," Summers called from the bank of computers where he was looking over Jerome's shoulder at the data on screen.

"What's Jerome looking at specifically?" Tony asked, lowering his voice.

"Bank statements, money transit info. I know he logged onto the US Treasury site but couldn't see the details."

The phone in Abby's private office rang. Summers looked up, a surprised expression on his face. He clearly thought he had severed all communication earlier when he had destroyed the speakerphone.

"There are two lines," Abby quipped. "I'm very popular."

Summers sneered at Abby before heading into her office and answering the phone. An angry conversation ensued, judging by Summers' defensive posture and his almost spasmodic movements. After a few moments, he threw down the phone and stormed back into the lab. He grabbed Tony roughly under one arm and pulled him into Abby's office.

"Talk to him," Summers said, practically throwing Tony into the desk chair. "Reveal anything and she dies." Tony turned back to see Jerome training a gun on Abby.

"Yell-o!" Tony called into the speakerphone, pleased that this nose injury wasn't making him sound like he had a cold.

"DiNozzo. Sit rep," Gibbs barked.

"Ya, Boss. I'm fine. Abby too. We've got everything locked up tight down here. Oh? What's new with me? I watched _12 Rounds _and _Firewall_ this weekend. Did McGee get his eyes fixed yet? It'd be a good time to have that done—" Tony was going to continue before Summers slammed down the phone and slammed it back in its cradle.

"What was _that_ all about?" Summers practically spat while waving the gun in Tony's face.

"Just catching up on my coworker's weekends. Didn't know that was taboo—that's a great game, by the way. And, just so you know, if you're going to threaten me, at least make it somewhat realistic and take the safety off the gun…" Tony trailed off, looking pointedly at the gun.

Summers' eyes shot to his firearm, discovering the safety was off. He glanced back at Tony, who was grinning gleefully.

Summers grabbed Tony by his shirt collar and pulled him to his feet. Summers stepped in Tony's personal space until they were almost nose to nose and jammed the gun into Tony's abdomen.

"Do you want me to shoot you, Mr. DiNozzo? It is taking all my willpower to _not_ pull this trigger. The boss would be very unhappy with me if I killed you. However, if you continue to irk me, I will have no choice. Before you make up your mind, consider this: What would poor Miss Scuito do without your presence, all alone with just Jerome and me for company?"

"I don't know," Tony answered seriously, going silent for a second to consider what Summers had just said. It took every ounce of strength he had in his body to control his facial features and to restrain himself from pounding this guy into the dirt for threatening Abby. He needed to protect Abby from these creeps but he had to give Gibbs a sit rep at all cost. Whatever these guys wanted was more important than a few bruises. "But I have a feeling she'd tell you to grab a Tic-Tac," Tony deadpanned, "Maybe two."

Summers' face turned its own shade of purple. He spun Tony around, shoving him back into Abby's lab. The last shove was so hard it knocked Tony off his feet, sending him crashing into Abby's gas chromatograph.

"Be careful, you…" Abby paused as Summers pointed the gun at her "…you dimwit," Abby decided. 'Dimwit' appears to be an acceptable insult, for Summers lowered his weapon and turned back to Jerome and the computer. Muttering to herself about the expensive equipment, she once again rushed to a fallen Tony's side.

She helped him sit up, eying him expectantly.

"We're all right. Gibbs knows all," Tony informed Abby. "He'd just better hurry the hell up."

* * *

_A very short, but very important chapter. Drop me a line and let me know what you think!_

_Thanks to all who reviews/alerted/favorited, et all!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Oh Vance. You hate writing him in a story, but you can't have a true NCIS story without him. Well, at least he doesn't have to be a favorite character. Any day now, NCIS writers. Any episode you want to make Vance appreciate Team Gibbs (especially Gibbs and DiNozzo) would be highly appreciated…._

**A/N**: There is a subtle movie reference in Tony's section. Heads up.

* * *

"Well, that was cryptic," McGee declared, trying to lighten the mood in MTAC. Everyone had gathered in MTAC after working separately for a few hours. After a heated discussion, Vance and Gibbs decided to call the captors before finalizing the jet escort. Gibbs needed to know his agent and forensic scientist were all right, especially before agreeing to these steep demands.

Delaying the inevitable was _killing_ Vance. He just wanted to have the FBI HRT rush the forensics' lab, capture the terrorists, and if DiNozzo and Miss Scuito survived, so be it. Miss Scuito was one-of-a-kind in so many ways, from her outfits to her incredible knowledge of forensic science. But she could be replaced, as long as a plane of suspicious motives did not land in his country and bring down his house. And DiNozzo…well, Vance couldn't say he _liked_ the man, but Gibbs had the utmost respect for the agent so, with grudging acceptance, Vance had grown to _appreciate_ what DiNozzo brought to the proverbial table. Still, filling a new team with more agents like McGee would be a better defense against naval crimes.

Vance cursed whoever had been empowering Gibbs all these years and allowing him to flaunt authority. Because of that, Vance was forced to compromise with Gibbs to ensure cooperation and reciprocation later; he dialed Abby's private line, handing over the phone to Gibbs.

Vance was surprised at the intensity Gibbs conveyed over the phone while demanding to speak to his agent. Vance was pretty sure he himself would be quaking in his boots if anyone spoke to him like that. Gibbs clearly won the battle, for DiNozzo came on and Gibbs put him on speaker phone.

The 'cryptic', but very DiNozzo, monologue ensued, leaving the members of MTAC puzzled.

"What did he mean?" Ziva wondered. "Clearly McGee's eyes are a reference to a camera in the room."

"I would assume 'locked up tight' denoted they're bound in some manner or locked in the lab," a MTAC tech piped up. A sharp glance from Gibbs turned her around in her chair and shut her up.

"Okay, that leaves the 'Twelve Rounds' and the 'Firewall'. I'm going to go out on a branch and assume they are movies," Ziva continued.

"_Limb_, Ziva. Go out on a limb." McGee corrected. Ziva waved her hand dismissively.

"Does anyone know what these movies are about?" Gibbs asked.

The silenced MTAC tech clicked a few links and pulled up the summaries of the movies on the MTAC screen.

"_12 Rounds_: Detective Danny Fisher discovers his girlfriend has been kidnapped by an ex-con tied to Fisher's past, and he'll have to successfully complete 12 challenges in order to secure her safe release. _Firewall_: A security specialist is forced into robbing the bank that he's protecting, as a bid to pay off his family's ransom," McGee read aloud.

"What's the end game?" Gibbs asked impatiently. "What are both movies about?"

"The money," Ziva answered after taking a moment to read the full summaries of both. "In _12 Rounds_, the criminal wants the money. The rest—the challenges, the hostage—are just red salmons—"

"Herrings," McGee informed her.

Ziva spun around to face McGee. "_Must_ you correct my English? It is bad enough when Tony's around and he nitpicks _every. little. thing._ I say," Ziva griped, pausing between her last words for emphasis. "In his absence, you turn into him—"

"No! No, Ziva! Don't say that!" McGee exclaimed, a terrified expression on his face.

"Are you two finished?" Gibbs questioned, silencing them both.

"So what DiNozzo is saying is money is involved?" Vance clarified, usurping Gibbs' current position of leadership, putting the Lead Field Agent back in his place. "McGee. What did you find from the security footage?"

McGee looked past Vance to Gibbs, who nodded his approval. McGee sat down at a MTAC computer and pulled up the footage.

"Here are two men entering with BPD badges. They pass easily, but," he froze the camera, "the security officer did not pass their bags through the metal detector. Soon after, she goes on break and never returns," McGee rewound the footage until a clear picture of the two suspects was visible. "This is the only clear shot of the suspects. I'm running their faces, narrowing the search to the Tri-State area," McGee swiveled around to face his bosses. "My computer isn't as fast as Abby's but it's trying." He turned back around. "Now for the camera. I thought we could drill a small hole under your desk, since it's geographically above a corner in Abby's lab."

"Do it," Gibbs and Vance ordered at the same time. Vance raised his eyebrows at Gibbs, who stared evenly back.

"Ziva," Gibbs demanded after a short moment.

"Nothing from my contacts. A plane left Moscow a few hours ago, but even I am unable to discern what is on it. It is very hush, hush as you Americans say. BUT—it is not prisoners. My sources say no raids or appeals have passed within the last month."

"So something on par with _Air Force One_ is out," Gibbs muttered thoughtfully.

"You actually saw that?" Ziva asked incredulously, as Gibbs fixed her with a silent stare. "I mean, even _I_ have seen that movie. Tony forced me to watch it a few months ago, claiming it was important I see it since 'real-life criminals used it to plan a hostile takeover'," she said using air quotes. Since Gibbs was still glaring at her, she waited silently for a moment. "I'm going to go help McGee," she declared before walking out of MTAC.

"Gibbs." Vance, who had been on the phone in a far corner, motioned to Gibbs. "I've arranged for a small escort and available air space. Boy, did I have to pull some strings though. Whoo-whee!"

"DiNozzo and Abby send their thanks," Gibbs stated bluntly before leaving MTAC.

Vance sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. It's not as if he wanted DiNozzo and Miss Scuito dead but it was a Catch-22. He _couldn't_ allow the assailants to walk, especially if there was something very dangerous aboard the plane. But, by acting on those feelings, he would effectively lose all respect from Team Gibbs and all those who were close friends with DiNozzo or Miss Scuito.

Vance stood up straighter, his mind made up. He was not going to be the laughing stock of Capitol Hill because he let a potential act of terrorism into the United States. At this point, he'd hope for the best and prepare for the worst. The Ari Haswari situation wasn't happening again…Not on his watch.

* * *

McGee was fiddling around with some video equipment, connecting, disconnecting, and reconnecting the same wires. He pounded Gibbs' desk in frustration.

"How are you doing McGee?" Ziva asked, knowing how much Abby meant to McGee.

"Just great, considering Tony and Abby are being held hostage in Abby's lab," McGee turned to face Ziva. "Gibbs made Tony take that Caf-Pow! down to Abby when Vance came to drag Gibbs to MTAC. Tony dropped it off at my desk and told me to deliver it. I told him where he could stick it, then shoved it back at him. It should have been me down there with Abby, not Tony."

"McGee," Ziva knelt down beside her partner. "You cannot blame yourself. I would have done the same thing if Tony had deposited that Caf-Pow! on my desk."

"Yeah, but you didn't hand him the letter containing the frickin'_ plague_ a few years ago!" McGee vented.

"McGee, that was not your fault either. And, according to Gibbs, Tony snatched the envelope out of your hand."

"I should have known. Should have stopped him. I had the chance to correct the situation and I blew it. Again. Now Abby's in danger and I wasn't there to protect her. Some friend I am." McGee flushed with embarrassment and looked away.

Ziva lightly touched McGee's chin, lifting his face until he was looking straight at her. "Did you know possible terrorists were going to seize the lab this morning? I was not informed. I would have not left if I had known."

McGee pondered her words for a few moments, before taking a deep breath to collect himself. "I'm sorry you had to hear all that Ziva. I just can't help it. This is the second time I have unknowingly put Tony's life in danger."

McGee was tired of talking about himself, so he turned the conversation to Ziva, "Aren't you the least bit worried?"

"Yes, McGee, I am," Ziva confessed, allowing McGee to see the worry etched on her face for a few seconds. "But Tony and I had a deal. If I watched _Air Force One_, he would do _anything_. I have mixed martial arts training on Saturday, and Tony's going to be my partner. If he is not there, I will inflict a punishment much worse than being my punching bag for a few hours." Even McGee couldn't help grinning at Ziva's plan.

"He will take good care of Abby. Do not worry," Ziva finished, grabbing the wire McGee had recently disconnected. "Where's this supposed to go?"

"Right here," McGee was back in control, taking the wire and swiftly connecting it. With a zapping noise, the visual feed from the lab appeared on the plasma.

"That's good work, Tim." McGee turned around to see a beardless Fornell standing behind him, flanked by the entire FBI HRT.

"We'll take it from here."

* * *

Jerome must have been born with supersonic hearing for he was able to detect a faint drilling noise. He looked around trying to locate the source of the sound. DiNozzo and Miss Scuito were in sitting in a far corner. Miss Scuito was leaning on DiNozzo's chest with DiNozzo's arms wrapped protectively around her. While Miss Scuito slept, DiNozzo shot fierce glances at both Jerome and Summers, daring them to disturb his friend. A few hours ago, DiNozzo had gingerly probed his nose and decided it wasn't actually broken. He proceeded to overdramatically remove the bandage, crumple it into a ball and throw it at the back of Summers' head, where it scored a direct hit.

Jerome continued to look around, spying a small black tube entering the lab in a far corner with his near-raptor vision. He nudged Summers, who was using the computer next to him, and pointed out the intruder.

Summers took aim at the object and destroyed it with one shot. Summers swore under his breath before turning to Jerome. "We've been sold out."

"There's only one agency that would do something so blatantly obvious," Jerome affirmed, nodding in realization.

"The FBI," Summers spat. "I had a feeling DiNozzo told more than he said."

He stormed over to where Tony and Abby were sitting, grabbing Tony under the arm and hauling him to his feet.

Tony managed to untangle himself from Abby, taking her out of the line of fire, before Summers came over. Regardless of his actions, Abby woke as soon as Tony was pulled from under her. She got to her feet ready to help but was pulled to the other side of the lab by Jerome.

Summers grabbed Tony by the throat and shoved him up against the wall. "What did you tell Gibbs?"

"I didn't tell him anything. It's standard procedure for the FBI to become involved in all hostage situations. Your intel didn't tell you that? I mean, you did do recon about NCIS and this lab before you came, right?"

Summers had had enough of DiNozzo and his smart mouth. He drew back a fist to punch DiNozzo in the mouth, hopefully disabling the damn thing.

Tony saw the fist headed toward him and ducked out of the way. Summers was clearly not expecting that move since he punched the wall full-force. Summers released Tony as his good hand went to protect his broken one. Tony stepped around the injured Summers and intertwining his hands. He clubbed Summers across the shoulders, knocking him to the floor.

Tony stepped away from Summers when he heard a gun being cocked. He turned to see Jerome holding the weapon to Abby's head.

Tony sighed deeply. "Really? _C'mon_! It wasn't even my fault. He rushed me," he complained to Jerome.

Tony quickly assessed the situation. Summers was down, but Jerome had Abby at gunpoint. If he could get the gun out of the equation, he could take out Summers, Abby could distract Jerome, then they could finish off Jerome together. Easy as pie…right? If Tony had been waiting for the opportune moment to stage his plan, frankly, this was it.

"It's because he's too chicken to fight for himself. Every time I get the upper hand, you pull a gun. Does that say something to you, Jerome? 'Cause that just screams coward to me!" Tony turned away from Jerome, to see Summers pulling himself to his feet.

"Come on, Summers! Fight me fairly. Have Jerome put the gun down and let's have at it," Tony goaded. "You can't have Jerome protect you every moment you're alive. One day, you're going to have to stick up for yourself," Tony jingled his handcuffs. "Technically, you still have the upper hand 'cause I'm in cuffs. But clearly, you're afraid I can still beat you, handicapped as I currently am," Tony continued, dancing around Summers.

He put himself between Summers and the wall, so he could shoot Abby a pointed look. Her eyes widened, signaling she understood. Tony stopped moving, his voice taking on a serious tone. "I, unlike you, will fight fairly. I promise not to hit you while you turn around and tell Jerome to put the gun down."

Summers was mad, his eyes flashing intense hatred for Tony. Tony grinned internally, knowing he had struck a nerve. Summers was a prideful person, macho enough to have to make himself superior to everyone he met, and stupid enough to charge headlong into situations without fully evaluating them. Summers thought for a moment before turning to Jerome and motioning for him to put down the gun.

"Slide it out of reach. Sheesh," Tony exasperated. "Do ya think I'm stupid? The gun cannot be in arm's reach! Everybody knows that!"

Summers nodded again. Jerome hesitated before sliding the gun across the table, out of his reach. He was not happy about the situation, showing his disapproval on his features.

"And I thought you'd have a better poker face than that. What's a matter Jerome? Don't like taking orders from the boss? Think you'd do a better job leading this team?" Tony needled Jerome, expanding on the rift that was forming between the two.

Summers turned around angrily, fist in the air. Tony easily sidestepped, grabbing Summers' extended arm and throwing him into Abby's equipment.

"What happened to fighting fairly? I was prepared to give you a full warning before I swung my first punch," he declared, stepping backward as Summers hauled himself to his feet again. Summers bent low and charged Tony. Tony stepped off to the side again, but Summers was ready this time. He turned mid-charge and tackled Tony around the knees. The two fell backward, knocking over Abby's superglue fumigator in the process. Tony punched Summers in the face, throwing the stunned criminal off him. Tony pulled himself to his feet, ready for Summers' next attack.

With Summers lying motionless on the floor, Jerome stepped forward to finish the fight, inadvertently turning his back on Abby. The Goth jumped on Jerome's back, beating his head and shoulders with her fists. She managed to get in a few good hits before Jerome swung her off his back, sending her crashing into Major Mass Spec. Abby slid to the ground and didn't get up.

Tony turned at the sound of approaching footsteps, but it was too late. Something hard crashed into his back, knocking the wind out of him. He fell forward, catching himself on his hands and knees, struggling to bring air into his lungs. While he fought to catch his breath, he turned his head slightly to see Jerome standing over him with Abby's computer chair raised over his head.

Summers staggered to his feet for the third time. He spat blood into the ruins of the fumigator before approaching the downed federal agent.

"Damn you DiNozzo," Summers swore, booting Tony sharply in the ribs. Tony collapsed to the ground and rolled into the fetal position in an attempt to protect his internal organs while he fought to breathe.

"Why were you in the lab?" Summers cried, driving his boot into Tony again.

"You're ruining everything!" He cried petulantly, kicking Tony for the third time. Pain exploded in Tony's side and white sunbursts danced in front of his eyes as he heard his ribs crack.

"Go…to…hell…" Tony managed between gasps for air.

"After you," Summers sneered, kicked Tony one more time. Tony inhaled sharply as he felt a few of his ribs give way completely. Big mistake. A groan escaped Tony's lips as pain swelled throughout his entire torso, leaving him disoriented and slightly nauseous. Through the haze, Tony watched Jerome haul Summers into Abby's office and give him a verbal dressing-down.

Upon his return, Jerome jerked Tony to his feet, half-dragging him across the lab before dropping him unceremoniously next to Abby. Tony sat for a moment, trying to get air into his oxygen-starved lungs without breathing deeply and moving his ribcage. Once the white flashes faded, he looked at the warm body lying next to him. All concern for himself was immediately gone when he realized it was Abby. And she wasn't moving.

* * *

_*Announcer's voice* Tony and Abby are in quite the predicament. What's wrong with Abby? How are they going to escape the lab? Will they ever figure out what Summers and Jerome are actually doing there? Once they do, how will they tell Gibbs? This and more to come, next time on _24 Hours of Summers.


	5. Chapter 5

_If you're a _Criminal Minds_ fan…well, you'll see. It just fit so perfectly… :)_

* * *

"Fornell." The FBI agent looked over his shoulder to see Gibbs descending from MTAC. "What are ya doing here?" Gibbs asked, seeing his team, Fornell and the HRT training weapons at a hole in the floor.

"Gibbs." Fornell nodded, holstering his gun. "We're taking charge of this investigation."

Gibbs shrugged. "Well, yeah. I assumed that was why you were here. What's your plan?"

"You're not inviting me to our usual conference room? You must really be concerned." Fornell lowered his voice. "How are they doing?"

"DiNozzo is running off his mouth, getting his ass kicked, and protecting Abby," Gibbs continued to fill in Fornell about the cryptic clue his agent had left.

"DiNutso couldn't be any more specific?" Fornell questioned. "Jethro! I thought you had your agents trained better than that."

"It's obviously the best he could do," Gibbs replied testily.

"All right," Fornell retreated, literally throwing up his hands and stepping backward. "So it's all about the money?"

"Nah, Tobias. DiNozzo just wanted us caught up on his movie-watching habits," Gibbs responded sarcastically.

"That's funny, Jethro. Insults aside, we tried to get eyes in the lab," Fornell began.

"And we all saw how well that worked out…" Gibbs countered.

Fornell shot Gibbs a withering glare before continuing. "Plan B in now in effect."

"And what exactly would that be, Tobias?"

"Inform the troops. Find the money."

"Is that all?"

If looks could kill, Gibbs would have been dead where he stood. Fornell held the glare for a long moment before turning to the HRT.

"There is more to this case than meets the eye. Our unsubs—"

"Our _what_, Tobias?" Gibbs interrupted.

"Unsubs. Unknown subjects. Emily's been watching a lot of _Criminal Minds_ lately—it's kinda catchy," Fornell shrugged.

Gibbs stared at the FBI agent silently.

"Fine. Our _targets_," Fornell amended while glaring at Gibbs, "are using the plane as a distraction. According to our inside man, there is money involved."

"How credible is this inside man?" a voice called out.

Fornell looked Gibbs directly in the eye while he spoke. "I'd trust him with my life."

* * *

Fornell assigned the HRT positions around the forensics' lab, while Ziva and McGee continued to puzzle over Tony's 'money' clue.

They paused when they heard the HRT radio crackle to life.

"The lab's in full lockdown. Solid steel door, reinforced. We could use a few explosives—"

"Negative, Alpha Four," Fornell ordered. "Our priority is the federal agents inside. We don't have a lock on their position."

"Why Abby's lab?" McGee pondered while Fornell continued to command the HRT.

"Completely enclosed. Private lines," Ziva offered.

"Autopsy has that, as well as MTAC and the Director's office. What's special about Abby's lab? What does it have that no other place has?"

"Abby's security clearance and her equipment," Gibbs stated.

"But you would have to have a lab tech or someone who knows how to work the machines," McGee pointed out the flaw in Gibbs' plan. His computer beeped and McGee glanced at the information on his monitor.

"You got a better suggestion?" Gibbs challenged.

"Yes, boss. Well, no boss. I mean, yes, you were right about the lab tech, and, no, I do not have a better suggestion," McGee typed rapidly for a few seconds.

"And…" Gibbs coached.

"This guy," McGee pulled up Jerome's picture on the plasma, "is Jeff Jerome. He was a lab tech for Pembridge Pharmaceuticals. The same company Chip Sterling worked for before Tony got him fired and, well…you know the rest," McGee trailed off as both Gibbs and Fornell scowled at him. "He voluntarily quit a few months ago. No criminal record. The guy's as—"

"Clean as a bell," Ziva concluded excitedly.

"_Whistle_, David," Fornell corrected. Ziva nodded her thanks, repeating the phrase once to remember it.

McGee's computer dinged again. "His accomplice is Dale Summers. He washed out of the Marines five years ago. He works at Taco Bell and is up for a promotion to a management position in three months. One prior: aggravated assault as a teen, served six months in juvie. Clean ever since."

"How about our lady friend who let them both through security?" Fornell asked.

"No matches yet. Her job application lists her name as Dolly Parton, which is obviously an alias…but…you knew that. I wasn't implying you didn't. She only came into existence two years ago, before that, nothing. I'm running her prints from her job application now."

"Can't you just hack into Abby's computer and see what they're working on?" Fornell questioned.

"No. There are a variety of firewalls and other miscellaneous security measures that Abby installed to prevent people from hacking her computers. It would take me months in the Cyber Unit to decrypt all her algorithms."

"That's good work McGee." Gibbs looked at his watch. Fourteen hours had passed from their precious twenty-four. He frowned at Vance's office before motioning to Fornell. "I guess it's time we pay our director a visit."

* * *

"Rush the lab," Vance declared.

"You can't do that!" Gibbs was furious that Vance would even suggest such a thing. They had come to MTAC to hear inform Vance of their plans. Instead, Vance had decided to rush the lab…immediately. "Send me in first."

"What! So you can get shot again, and the bastards can escape as the HRT? No siree. That little debacle will not happen again," Vance stated vehemently.

"Now it's clear where you stand!" Gibbs put his hands on the front of Vance's desk, leaning into Vance's personal space. "I just wish I had known this when I had your file. I might have actually read it. Then we could have avoided this dog and pony show we've been playing for the last three years."

Vance met Gibbs' glare with one of his own. "As the Director of NCIS, I am ordering you to remove your hands from my desk and step away."

Gibbs remained a moment longer before complying with Vance's order.

Vance got up from his desk, coming around to confront Gibbs. Fornell stood off in the corner, not wanting to interrupt the epic fight that he knew was coming. He toyed with the idea of recording the confrontation and putting it on YouTube, but that would probably get him fired. He weighed the both sides of the scenario, considering the cost of living in D.C., the many years of private school for Emily he had yet to fund, and the alimony he was currently paying, before stuffing his phone back in his jacket pocket. His FBI pension—small as it was—would be worth the wait.

"It has been fourteen hours Gibbs. Agent DiNozzo left us some half-assed clue about the plane being a ploy and money being involved. We have no idea what he really meant. I cannot be associated with this agency the same way Hanssen is with the FBI. My name will not be Mudd from this incident."

"This 'incident' is going to cost you the lives of the best forensic scientist in the US—probably the world—and one of the best agents I've ever worked with," Gibbs returned, standing practically nose to nose with Vance. "Is it worth it then? Your image over your people's lives?"

"Agent Gibbs," Vance warned, his voice dangerously low. "I will take into consideration the events of the last fourteen hours and not formally reprimand you for addressing me in such a manner. The lives of our agents are important," he conceded, "but their well-being does not top national security. We will remove ourselves from this case and allow the HRT to do their job. If our agents survive, and the situation is successfully diffused, we will have won on both accounts. Our agents put their lives on the line every day. They know the consequences of their job."

"But Abby? Is that written in her contract?" Gibbs was practically spitting he was so furious. "I didn't think so! You can't do this Le-on! You will lose either way. You can't have your image untarnished, my agents alive, and the suspects captured. It doesn't work like that. If push comes to shove, who are you going to pick?"

"And just what would you suggest, _Agent_ Gibbs?" Vance deflected Gibbs' personal question with another.

"Call DiNozzo. Give 'im a heads-up so he and Abby can protect themselves. Then, we'll rush the lab—go in guns blazing—whatever. Once the suspects are caught and our people safe, we'll send SWAT to seize the plane."

Vance considered for a moment. "I can't do that Gibbs. We can't risk alerting the potential terrorists to our plans. I cannot risk _my_ people's lives on the promise that you can alert DiNozzo and _not_ Summers and Jerome. _That_ plan is too risky.

"But I can give you this," Vance made one final attempt to salvage his reputation with his Lead Agent. "_I _will _allow_ you an extra two hours to figure this out. You can run security tapes, make plans with the FBI HRT, send Miss Scuito telepathic signals, I don't give a damn. You may _not_ contact the lab in any manner. If you can bring me concrete proof of a way to save this whole incident before then, we'll talk again.

"If not," Vance turned to Fornell in the far corner, "in exactly two hours I am removing all NCIS involvement from this case. It will be fully under your discretion to do what you choose. If you decide to rush the lab, so be it. I will be waiting for your signed report in the morning." Vance motioned toward the door.

"And they call us bastards?" Fornell asked incredulously as he and Gibbs left Vance's office. "I want to punch that guy's lights out and I hardly know him."

"He's like a bottle of brandy. You never like the taste, you just learn how to deal with it."

Fornell grinned. "What's our plan, Gibbs?"

"We're running a full work-up on Jerome, Summers and Parton. If they are in on a heist, they have to have met somewhere. Someone's got to have proof of it: cell phone signal, credit card receipt, high school reunion, whatever. I'll get McGee on it."

"I'll get a sit rep from my men," Fornell nodded. "Don't worry, Jethro. We'll catch the bastards."

"Don't doubt it. I'm just curious what shape you're going to find him in. DiNozzo does not take kindly to being held at gunpoint and used as a punching bag. And Abby…you remember the last time someone tried to outsmart her…" The shared memory caused both Gibbs and Fornell to smile.

Vance observed their conversation from his office via a security camera. Uncensored access to all audio and video recorders in the building was one of the perks of his job. He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to erase the last conversation with Gibbs. It had gone downhill so fast even he couldn't stop it.

Oh, well. He couldn't do anything about it now. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. _Oh God! A movie quote! _ Vance shrieked internally. DiNozzo was haunting him even when he was being held captive in Abby's lab!

_Damn you DiNozzo_ _and your incessant movie quotes! Damn you Gibbs for running your team like the mob: one big, happy family! _ Vance sighed heavily before returning to his paperwork, in hopes of finding a way to get his people out of there alive.

* * *

_**A/N:**__ So I know 'hope for the best and prepare for the worst' is an English proverb, but it's been in a few movies. The one I was quoting stars Jack Nicholson (hint, hint)._

_Please don't mutiny! I know it's a short chapter…but this one combined with the next one made for a monster chapter that was nine pages long. Have no fear: the next chapter is all Abby and Tony! :)_


	6. Chapter 6

_I apologize in advance for the ending! *cackles evilly* :)_

_Shame on you if you just scrolled down and read the last line without reading the rest of the story! There's a reason I write all the stuff before the ending! Sheesh… :)_

* * *

"Abby! Abby!" Tony called softly as he gently shook Abby's shoulder. His touch appeared to elicit a negative reaction in the Goth for Abby began thrashing wildly against Tony's grip.

"Abby! It's me, Tony! Stop moving! You could be seriously hurt!" Abby appeared to be reassured by Tony's voice and laid still. A moment passed before she opened her eyes.

"Tony!" Her eyes traveled his face before realization hit. She sat up immediately, examining Tony for signs of injury. Her eyes narrowed as they spied Tony's arm cradling his torso. "What'd they do to you?"

"It's nothing Abby. I'll be fine." Tony shifted so he was staring directly at Abby.

"Do you know where we are?" He reached out and gently held open her eyes, examining her pupils. They were dilated and there was a slight delay between his movements and her reactions.

"Yeah, we're in my lab. Being held hostage by two jokers who love beating the crap out of you." Abby turned angry. "Couldn't you once just stop running off your big mouth, Tony? You could've gotten yourself killed. Then what am I going to do without you? I can't hold off these two guys all by my lonesome!"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Tony defended himself meekly. It was not often one experienced the wrath of Abby and he was a little uncomfortable under her piercing glare.

"Oh, Tony!" She flew up from her seat, smothering Tony in a hug. "I'm so sorry! That wasn't what I meant at all!"

"Aargh!" Tony couldn't help crying out as Abby accidentally pressed on his broken ribs. He doubled over, trying to ease the stabbing pain in his side.

Abby jumped backward, her hands covering her open mouth. She stared wide-eyed at her injured friend and began to babble. "Oh my god! Tony! I didn't mean to do that either! I wasn't thinking! Oh! Oh! Oh God! I'm so sorry! Are you okay? Please tell me you're okay! Tony! Tony! Talk to me…"

Tony was silent, focusing on bringing his breathing under control. As the excruciating agony subsided to regular radiating pain, he slowly unclenched his fists and removed the pained expression from his face.

"…fine Abs…Just fine," he hissed. "Now will you sit still so I can check you out?"

She sat obediently against the Major.

"Now, who are you?" Tony asked, gently probing her head for an injury site.

"Ouch, Tony! That hurts!" she complained as he found the small lump, which was fortunately not bleeding. "I'm Abigail Scuito, master of forensic science, Level 6 Dragon Warrior, Caf-Pow lover and an otherwise extremely awesome person!"

"Glad to see your humility wasn't damaged. Yup. You're all right." Tony gently repositioned himself next to Abby, exhaling slowly as he leaned back against the mass spectrometer.

At that very moment, Summers and Jerome walked in from the private office.

"Stop speaking!" Summers ordered. Tony noted with small satisfaction that Summers had been forced to bandage his broken hand. At least he'd given as good as he'd gotten!

Tony and Abby obediently sat in silence while Jerome and Summers pulled out lamination sheets and identification badges from their bags. Jerome opened his e-mail, downloaded pictures of both him and Summers, and printed the pictures on Abby's high-tech printer. As Jerome handed the original IDs to Summers, he accidentally allowed Tony a glimpse of one. It was a Security ID for Quantico Bank in Norfolk.

"You're making fake IDs. Don't you need to be eating oranges too?" Tony cracked as Summers laminated his picture over the original. Summers ignored Tony and forged a fake ID for Jerome as well.

When they were done doctoring the ID cards, Summers pulled up a map of the D.C. area and conversed with Jerome in hushed tones. The conversation appeared to revolve around a highlighted route that traveled between the Capitol and Silver Springs through the rural suburbs.

"Tony!" Abby whispered urgently. "That's the route Quantico bank takes to the Federal Reserve. Wait! What's today?"

"Monday. The 25th," said Tony.

"Today's the day the bank sends all their dirty money—dirty meaning ruined, not dirty meaning illegal. The bank burns that money too, but that's the money they're burning today—to the Federal Reserve to be retired," she was almost bouncing with excitement. "I usually stand beside the road and watch all the ruined money go by, wishing I could reach out and steal it…wishing it was mine…" she reminisced happily.

"What does that have to do with us?" Tony wasn't following Abby's logic.

"They're going to rob the bank. Think about it! They have the bank ID badges, and the route which they downloaded using my clearance from the Treasury Department. If I was a betting girl, I'd wager that they have coveralls stashed in that duffel Jerome has been carrying around…"

"And the Cayman Island's account?" Tony asked, knowing full well where this was going. But solving a crime—understanding the criminal's logic, knowing what they were going to do next, and being able to explain their motivations—was his favorite part of being an NCIS agent…other than being able to carry a gun and meeting gorgeous women on a regular basis. He wanted to allow Abby the rush that came with solving a crime all by yourself.

"And I thought you were the movie buff," Abby shook her head disapprovingly. "That's where they are going to wire the money after they take it! Don't you see Tony? No one will even know the money's missing! It's a foolproof plan!" Abby's voice was getting louder and louder as she spoke despite Tony's best efforts to quiet the forensics guru.

"Very good, Miss Scuito!" Summers called from across the room, sauntering over to the NCIS agents.

"You've figured out our plan! But you've left out a few details," Summers continued, wagging his finger condescendingly.

"Why don't you enlighten us on those 'few details'?" Tony was hoping Summers' arrogance would allow Summers to explain his plan fully: the way he planned it, the long hours he spent choosing the location, blah blah blah. The long monologue would give Tony time to plan an escape.

"No. I don't think I will," Summers was interrupted by the crackling of the walkie-talkie crackled. He retreated to the private office where he had a livid conversation with the handset. Even though Summers' back was turned, Tony could tell the conversation was not a pleasant one: Summers was stomping his foot regularly, waving his arm angrily in the air, and pounding Abby's desk every few minutes.

"That your boss?" Tony asked breezily, seeing Summers' red faced expression as he re-entered the room.

"Shut it DiNozzo," Summers snapped, turning to address Jerome. "We're done here. Wrap it up."

Jerome finished working on Abby's computer and powered it down. Summers grabbed the duct tape on the table and pulled the handcuffs key from his pocket.

"DiNozzo. Miss Scuito." Summers motioned to the table in the center of Abby's lab.

Tony and Abby helped each other to their feet, unhappily standing by the table.

"If you would be so kind," Summers motioned to the floor in front of the lab table. With a quick sweep of his foot, Summers knocked Tony off his feet.

Tony managed to keep from hitting his head on the table, but, with his cuffed hands, he could not avoid landing on his broken ribs. He felt all the blood drain from his face as his torso smacked the ground, sending pain searing through his side. While he gasped for breath and struggled to remain conscious, Tony felt the handcuffs being removed. He tried to force his battered body into action, but just breathing was sapping his remaining energy.

"Oops! My bad," Tony heard Summers cackle, not sounding apologetic at all as he gleefully exacted his revenge against the person who had been a major pain in his ass for the last day. Summers grabbed Tony by his shirt collar and roughly dragged him backwards until Tony was leaning against the table leg. Tony's hands were duct taped around the table leg between the tabletop and the bottom storage ledge. Bound like that, even if Tony managed to knock over the incredibly heavy table, he could not slide his hands off the table leg. After a while his vision cleared and he spotted Abby at the other end of the table, bound in a similar manner.

Summers and Jerome gathered all their gear and headed into the ballistics' lab where Jerome began to empty his duffel.

"Who does he think he is? Mary Poppins?" Tony quipped to Abby between short hitched breaths as Jerome removed a variety of equipment including a small handheld power saw and a cordless drill.

While Tony and Abby watched, Jerome and Summers constructed a pyramidal support system from parts in Jerome's bag and hung a pulley from the apex. When that was finished, Jerome proceeded to pull the fire alarm in Abby's private office. The loud sirens rang throughout the building, making it impossible to hear anything else but its loud screech.

Summers took full advantage of the noise, using it as a cover while he drilled a hole in center of a floor tile. He screwed in a hook, attached a cord to it and ran the cord through the pulley. While Jerome held the other end of the cord, Summers began sawing around the tile. The tile fell when Summers cut the final side, but Jerome had a firm grip on the other end of the cord which kept the tile from crashing to the ground. He backed up farther and farther pulling the tile back into the ballistics' lab before tying the cord to a far wall.

Jerome and Summers returned to the lab, duffel bag in tow. Jerome grabbed a large can from his bag and emptied it on the lab's floor. From the smell, Tony discerned the liquid was gasoline. Abby apparently came to the same conclusion and began swearing loudly at Jerome. Summers grabbed the gun from his waist band and pointed at her, but Abby was undeterred. Jerome was going to set fire to her babies!

Abby struggled against the duct tape, trying to get free. Summers had had enough of these NCIS agents who continued to interfere with his job. It was supposed to be an open-and-shut job: break into the lab, hold anyone there hostage, get the intel and leave. Instead, he'd been in two fights, had his hand broken, and had been forced to put up with DiNozzo's smart ass attitude and Abby's uncooperative nature. He'd was done taking their crap. Summers grabbed the duct tape and put a strip over Abby's mouth, cutting her off mid-swear word. Abby's eyes continued to flash the words she was unable to say.

"Can't you just let her go? She really has nothing to do with this," Tony shouted over the fire alarm, trying one last time to barter for Abby's freedom.

"No. She's knows too much," Summers replied simply, grabbing another can of gasoline from his bag and dousing Abby's machines.

"She's not a crucial part of your plan. Trust me, you do not want an angry Abby following you around after we somehow escape. The last guy who tried to fool her ended up with 25 to life in Leavenworth," Tony nodded vigorously, hoping to intimidate Summers and Jerome into freeing Abby. Did he really think it was going to work? No. But it was worth a shot.

"You really don't shut up, do you?" Summers angrily turned to face Tony.

Tony tried to avoid the gun butt that was flying at his face, but being tied to the table didn't leave him with a lot of options. The gun collided with Tony's cheekbone, rending him unconscious in seconds. Abby made a muffled noise from the other end of the table that could only be interpreted as a shriek.

Summers spun around to confront Abby. "Do I have to knock you out too? I don't want to, but I will if I have to." Abby quieted immediately, her eyes narrowing angrily at Summers.

"Summers. We gotta go," Jerome called from Abby's private office. Summers acknowledged his partner with a nod before turned back to Abby and looking her squarely in the eye. "Good bye, Miss Scuito. I am sorry this had to happen to you. I truly wish circumstances had been different."

Walking toward the private office, Summers pulled a matchbox from his pocket and lit a match.

Abby screamed as he dropped the match and her lab started burning.

* * *

_Ahhhh! What's going to happen to our favorite NCIS employees?_

_Please leave me a review! If you haven't reviewed yet, I'd love to hear what you think of this story! _

_Special thanks to all my regular reviewers!:) You're the greatest! :)_


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: **__Ummm…Question. Did I say Tony and Abby were going to __**get**__ rescued by Gibbs/HRT? No…. 'cause they're doing the rescuing __**themselves**__! :)_

_**READ THIS:**__ The escape takes place in the world of "Requiem". You'll know what this means in a few paragraphs._

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Summers quickly closed the sliding glass door and stuck Abby's letter opener in the corner to disable the motion sensor.

The fire was raging through Abby's lab and the temperature was rising quickly. Abby was crying, yelling at Tony to wake up while simultaneously cursing Summers, and praying to the gods she'd make it out of there alive. She frantically pulled at the duct tape, trying to get free. The smoke was spreading fast and was making it difficult to breathe. Fortunately, the heat was making her sweat and that was weakening the tape's stick. Good thing the stuff had stretchy properties too.

With a hard yank, her right hand came free. She ripped off the gag before running over to Tony and unwrapping the duct tape around his wrists.

"Wake up Tony," she cried, shaking his shoulder and gently slapping his face. The smoke finally got to Tony and a set of racking coughs combined with Abby's slaps brought him back to consciousness. He looked around blankly for a moment before he remembered where he was.

"Abby! We've got to get into the ballistics' lab. It's our only way out!" Tony pulled his shirt over his face and headed over to the sliding door, pounding on it with both hands when it didn't open. He tried tugging it open, with no success.

"He's disabled it!" Abby wailed.

"C'mon Abby! There's got to be something in this lab that we can use!"

"Acid!" Abby's face lit up. "We can burn through the door," she called through coughs, heading back through the flames toward her cabinet.

She ran back to Tony with gloves and a vial. Tony stood off to the side and poured the acid down the side of the door. The jamb immediately began disintegrating.

"Faster! Faster!" Tony urged the acid, seeing the fire had reached Abby's equipment.

Every fiber in his being complained as Tony launched a solid kick at the door. The glass shattered but, since it was bullet resistant, did not break. Tony grabbed a hole by the weakened door jamb and began peeling away the glass.

"Let's go, Abs!" Tony called as he headed into her private office, shedding the gloves that were beginning to smoke. He turned to find Abby staring hopelessly at her lab, watching everything she loved go up in flames. "Abby! It's going to start exploding!"

The spell was broken: Abby snapped back to reality and quickly followed Tony into her office. Over the sirens, Tony heard a faint rumbling noise and a low hiss; he'd seen too many movies to not know what was going to happen next.

"Get down Abby!" he called, throwing himself on top of her. A machine in Abby's lab exploded, sending shrapnel and a cloud of smoke into the office.

"Abby! Are you okay?" he shouted, rolling off her and seeing a bloody cut on the Goth's forehead.

"I'm fine," she said, wiping the blood off her forehead. "You?" she asked, noticing a deep gash in Tony's upper arm.

"'s just a scratch," Tony lied between coughs. He'd been grazed by a piece of shrapnel, which, in all honesty, had hurt pretty badly. But he had more important things to worry about at the moment.

Through the dense fog, he crawled over to the office door, pulling desperately on the handle. He forced himself to his feet, ignoring the twinge in his arm whenever he moved it. Even through the smoke, Tony could see his jacket sleeve was turning scarlet at an alarming rate. The wound in his upper arm was clearly more serious that he'd originally thought.

He managed to kick down the door despite his body protesting his every move. He reached back for where he'd left Abby, grabbing her arm and guiding her toward the door. "Let's go!"

They headed into the ballistics' lab, pulling the door shut behind them. Tony let out a sigh of relief when he discovered the pyramid had withstood the blast and was still supporting the tile.

"Ladies first," Tony said, bowing slightly and flourishing his uninjured arm.

"Anthony DiNozzo! This is no time for chivalry!" Abby exclaimed. Despite her momentary objection, she lowered herself through the hole without further complaints.

Tony was right behind her, partially propelled by the shockwave of the second explosion from the lab. He felt like Ethan Hunt riding the helicopter explosion to safety in _Mission: Impossible_. Unfortunately, neither of them experienced a soft, cushy, mattress-filled dumpster—a common cliché in escape movies—in which to land.

He landed on two feet, knees bent to absorb the impact. And Gibbs said he'd never use those skydiving lessons he'd taken eight years ago! He'd always known learning how to land without injuring himself would come in handy someday. Discarding the fact that his first attempt had resulted in a week-long limp, his second, and hopefully final attempt at some sort of safe landing, was 10 point perfection.

Another explosion shook the building, knocking him backwards. Despite his best efforts to remain standing, he landed hard on the autopsy floor, jarring every previously uninjured bone in his body.

"Tony! That's more than a scratch!" Abby cried as she slowly got to her feet. She looked worriedly at Tony's jacket sleeve which now was completely soaked in blood.

"Not the time Abby," he deflected as he grabbed an autopsy table and hauled himself to his feet. He clutched Abby's arm tightly, leading her toward the stairs, knowing it was standard procedure to disable the elevators in emergency situations. They burst through the door outside evidence lock-up and headed immediately for the great outdoors.

All NCIS employees had evacuated the building and were standing outside in a tight huddle, trying to get as far away from the burning lab as possible.

"Find Gibbs," Tony instructed Abby after yet another coughing fit subsided. Without breaking pace, he motioning that they split up and continuing to shove his way through the crowd.

"DiNozzo!" he heard, turning slightly at the sound of Vance's voice. His knees buckled and his vision blurred as Vance grabbed his arm, clearly unaware of his injury. Vance pulled his hand away immediately when he felt the sticky liquid, instead holding Tony's other shoulder to support the unsteady agent.

"Are you all right DiNozzo?" The Toothpick asked concernedly. That wound must be pretty bad if he even _the director_—the man who had sent him to the U.S.S. Ronald Reagan and the U.S.S. Seahawk, the man who thought he was a red-headed stepchild, and the man who wanted Gibbs to permanently hire a new agent—was worried.

"Gibbs. Where's Gibbs?" Tony gasped, looking around wildly for his boss.

He spotted the silver hair a short distance away. As the crowds parted, he saw his boss being held tightly by two security guards, struggling to escape and run back into the building.

"Boss!" Tony called. Gibbs looked up, relief evident on his face. He shrugged himself free of the security guards, who allowed Gibbs to do so at Vance's nod, and headed over to Tony.

"Are you all right DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"What's everyone's glitch? It's not the time for me. Summers, Jerome and their team are going to rob the US Treasury. They're ambushing the van at the rural part of DC between here and Silver Springs," Tony explained hurriedly. "We have to go! Now!"

Gibbs whistled loudly and McGee and Ziva came running.

"Tony!" they cried, glad to see their partner. Tony re-explained the situation to them.

"Just _how_ were we supposed to figure that out from a _12 Rounds_ and a _Firewall_ reference?" McGee questioned.

"If you had seen those movies, you would know, Mr. Gemcity," Tony retorted, noticing Gibbs and Vance in a private pow-wow not too far away.

"Ziva! Give me one of your guns!" Tony ordered. "Oh, come on! I know you have _at least_ two on your person at all times, along with a knife and God knows what else," he added when she looked reluctant to part with a weapon.

"McGee, Ziva. With me," Gibbs headed toward the parking lot. "DiNozzo, you and Abby find Ducky and get yourselves checked out."

McGee and Ziva headed off, leaving Tony standing alone with a shocked look on his face. He took off running, flying past his teammates before cutting off Gibbs.

"Boss! This guy held Abby and me hostage in her lab. There is no way in _hell_ I'm letting you arrest him without me!" Tony planted himself firmly in Gibbs' path, arms crossed determinedly over his chest. Gibbs eyed his agent, silently asking him to get out of the way. Tony held his ground, returning Gibbs' unblinking gaze.

"All right," Gibbs consented, causing Tony to grin. "Under one condition. You get that arm bandaged. I don't want you to pass out from blood loss and get yourself shot or somethin'."

"Aw, Gibbs. Didn't know you cared!" A genuine smile lit up Tony's sooty face.

"I don't, DiNozzo. I'd have to write an incident report—and you know how long and detailed those are. Then I'd have to make a copy for Vance. One for Ducky too. One for your medical records. One for the case file. One for the FBI case file 'cause we'd be thrown off this one. It's too much effort."

Tony looked wounded. "Gibbs. DiNozzo's are proud people. We do not pass out!"

"Egotistical too," McGee muttered.

"What was that, Dr. Evil?" Tony turned his glare to McGee. "Give me your handkerchief." McGee unhappily handed it over, complaining about how it was newly monogrammed.

Tony slipped off his jacket, trying to keep his right side as still as possible; he wasn't completely successful and grimaced slightly when he jarred his ribcage. He wrapped the handkerchief around his arm and tied it with his teeth before carefully sliding on his jacket again.

"Okay, Gibbs. Arm bandaged. Can we go now?" Tony started toward the parking lot. The amount of care Tony had used to avoid moving his ribs bothered Gibbs. Gibbs regretted what he had to do, knowing how much it was going to hurt Tony, but he had to find out just what was ailing his Senior Field Agent.

As Tony passed his boss, Gibbs reached out and gently touched DiNozzo's side. Tony doubled over, hissing in pain as Gibbs' fingers brushed his broken ribs.

"Gibbs." Tony spun around, swearing at his boss through clenched teeth. "What. The. Hell?" Gibbs grasped his agent's shoulders and gently eased him upright.

"How many DiNozzo?" Gibbs questioned, referring to the number of broken ribs Tony had acquired.

Tony had the perfect smart-ass answer, but one look at Gibbs told him his boss was not in the joking mood. Mouthing off to Gibbs in his current state would probably guarantee him desk duty for a week.

"One." Gibbs cocked an eyebrow, his way of telling Tony he didn't believe him.

"Two, tops," Tony shot Gibbs a deadly glare. He put his arm around his torso in an effort to protect his ribs from further abuse and tried again to head for the car.

"Cracked?" _Damn you, Gibbs_, Tony thought, frowning. Gibbs stood silently waiting for an answer.

"A few," Tony admitted sourly. "Nothing I can't handle." He again started for the car, but was stopped by Gibbs' hands on his shoulders. "We kinda need to get going. The robbery is happening in an hour!" Tony repeated impatiently.

"Are you sure you're up to this DiNozzo?" Gibbs inquired, looking pointedly at the handkerchief through the hole in Tony's jacket, which was now completely soaked with blood despite having only been added a few moments ago. He also noticed the dark shadows on his agent's face that vividly contrasted his unusually pale skin, though Gibbs couldn't tell whether they were bruises or soot. His Senior Field Agent didn't respond, continuing to glare at Gibbs with a 'what do you think?' expression.

"Give him a gun Ziva," Gibbs ordered before heading towards the car.

Ziva sighed heavily and pulled a gun from her ankle holster.

"Admit it. You were worried about me," Tony probed.

"Yes, Tony. I was worried about you," she paused while he grinned happily. "I was worried about all the overdue paperwork piled up on your desk that McGee and I would have to finish if you died," Ziva finished, handing over her weapon to a now frowning Tony.

"Cheer up Tony! Now you get to be my mixed martial arts partner on Saturday." Tony opened his mouth to protest. "No. No. You promised me _anything_ if I watched _Air Force One_. That is it. No exceptions," she called, running to catch up with Gibbs.

"Probie! You were worried about me, right?" Tony asked, his voice taking on a slightly desperate tone.

"Yeah. I was worried about who was going to protect Abby while you were getting yourself beaten to a pulp," McGee replied, quickly following Ziva.

Tony was once again left standing alone. He shrugged his partner's feelings aside before hurrying to catch up with his team.

As the car pulled away, a loud boom caught everyone's attention. A shock wave ripped through the sedan as Abby's lab exploded in a very _Die Hard_ manner. Tony stared straight ahead, a vacant yet determined expression on his face, while he contemplated just how close he had come to kicking the bucket. _That is a _horrible_ euphemism for death_, he decided. Then again, meeting his maker, selling the farm, or going into the fertilizer business weren't much better.

The screeching of tires and loud cursing forced Tony to abandon all reflection and concentrate on keeping himself from crashing headlong into the dashboard. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the worst. If Gibbs didn't slow down, there were going to make the evening news.

And not in a good way.

* * *

_Okay, now you know what I mean by the world of "Requiem": you can shoot a car windshield, pound it with your fist then peel it away. I suspect it's a little bit of Hollywood Magic...but, this _is_ Fan__**Fiction**_**. **_All righty? No flames on that matter._

_So, if you think we're done, you've got another thing coming! What kind of author leaves the story without the good guys catching the bad guys? (Yeah, there's more to that than you think…)_

_If you haven't reviewed yet, drop me a line and let me know what you think! :) Thanks to all my loyal reviewers! You're awesome! :)_


	8. Chapter 8

_The new season starts September 21__st__! Set your DVRs, VCRs, video cassettes and what have you! _

_

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Gibbs' driving was hard on regular people who were not sporting broken ribs and an injured arm. The Marine was criminally speeding and taking the turns with two wheels off the ground.

"Gibbs. D'ya think we could ease up a little on the turns?" Tony asked softly after he was thrown into his door yet again. Though he was bracing himself, there was not much he could do when the vehicle was moving at 75 miles an hour. The adrenaline rush from his narrow brush with death had worn off about five minutes ago. Since then, every part of his body was throbbing; muscles he didn't even know existed were making their aching presence known.

Ziva and McGee looked at their partner in surprise. Everyone hated Gibbs' driving but no one dared to ask the boss to slow down. Even Gibbs took his eyes off the road to glance over at him. "'m not feeling so hot," Tony muttered.

Gibbs noted the greenish tinge to DiNozzo's face, before obliging, taking the turns only twenty miles over the limit.

"You good DiNozzo?" Gibbs questioned.

"Never better, especially now that I'm not being slammed into the door at warp speed every other second," Tony was silent for a moment, reviling in the momentary lapse of blaring car horns and screeching tires.

"Anyone got some Advil?" Tony asked lightly, receiving shocked looks from everyone in the car. "I'm not going to take a boatload of them. Just one or two. Hopefully that won't have any adverse effects on my personality." _Maybe three_, Tony thought as Gibbs hit another pothole, launching the car into the air.

Gibbs pulled up to the future crime scene ten minutes earlier than expected. The robbery was scheduled to take place about a half a mile further on the curvy road, just around a sharp right turn. Gibbs shut off the engine about half a mile early and parked the car off-road, using the sharp turn as a cover. Through the trees, Team Gibbs could see the robbery had already started.

Jerome and another man were clad in the predicted coveralls and were holding the armored guard and his passenger at gunpoint. The federal employees were on their knees, hands behind their heads, facing away from Team Gibbs. The rear doors of the Treasury vehicle were open and 'Dolly Parton' was busily working inside. A third Secret Service agent who must have been stationed in the rear of the truck was lying unconscious on the ground off to the side. The mandatory security escort was no where in sight.

Parton turned slightly, bringing her shadowy form into the light. This allowed Tony to see her restacking the money; she left one real hundred dollar bill on the top of the pile, but filled the rest of the stack with newspaper clippings. She was putting the phony stacks back in the truck, while throwing the real hundred dollar bills in a duffel bag on the ground.

"I apologize, McGeek. I don't know how you were supposed to understand this scheme from my _Firewall _and _12 Rounds_ reference. This is more _Mad Money_ meets _A Fish Called Wanda_," Tony called over his shoulder. McGee rolled his eyes in response.

"Where is Summers?" Ziva questioned.

"He's probably behind the truck, covering the agents from behind," McGee offered. The truck unfortunately blocked a portion of their vision. Jerome and his partner were stationed slightly in front of the truck, making them visible to Team Gibbs. The NCIS agents could only barely see the armored guards' heads over the front of the car. The angle at which the vehicle was parked allowed Team Gibbs to see the commotion in the rear.

"Or, he took out the security escort," he continued after a moment when Summers failed to make an appearance.

"Let's move," Gibbs ordered as Parton started collecting her equipment.

"On it boss!" Tony exclaimed excitedly, reaching for the door handle.

"Not you DiNozzo." Gibbs reached over and yanked Tony's door shut. "You stay in the car. If you so much as fidget, I'll order you to attend Ziva's training thingy on Saturday, injured or not."

"Gibbs…" he protested.

"What time should he be there, Ziva?"

"No, no. That's okay. I'll stay in the car." Tony surrendered, unhappily sitting back in his seat.

"Ziva, with me. We'll take Jerome and the other man. McGee, you're on Parton. Everyone keep your eyes peeled for Summers." The team sans Tony piled silently out of the car. While McGee waited close to the car, Gibbs and Ziva headed stealthily through the forest, coming up behind Jerome and his partner.

"NCIS! Drop your weapons!" Gibbs and Ziva shouted, training their guns on Jerome and his partner.

"Freeze!" McGee called as Parton reached for her gun. "Get out of the truck!"

Gibbs and Ziva disappeared behind the vehicle, out of Tony's sight. Sighing heavily, Tony turned his gaze to McGee. The Probie motioned for the re-armed guard to assist him in covering Parton before assessing the status of the unconscious Secret Service agent.

"He's alive," McGee informed the federal agents. Following protocol, McGeek climbed into the back of the truck to clear it. Suddenly, McGee came flying backwards out of the truck like a McDart. He was followed closely by Summers who leapt over the fallen NCIS agent and sprinted away. The driver continued to cover Parton, yelling concernedly at an unresponsive Probie.

Tony looked at Summers, gauging the distance between them. Summers was heading into the forest, avoiding the roads. Tony was the closest to Summers' current position and had the best chance of catching up to him. _Crap! Gibbs was going to kill him._

Tony braced his injured arm tightly against his broken ribs before getting out of the car and pursuing Summers. Summers heard the footsteps following him and looked over his shoulder. His face contorted into an expression of disgust before morphing into one of fear; even in his sub-standard state, Tony was gaining on the older man.

The chase was brutal: Tony was running unevenly over the rocky ground, each jerky step jolting his ribcage and reminding him why Gibbs had him stay in the car. Ducking and weaving constantly to avoid stray branches weren't helping the shooting pain in his side. Plus, he was breathing hard which was putting unnecessary stress on his injured ribs.

In less than a minute, he was completely rejuvenated as adrenaline rushed through his system, reducing the searing anguish to a dull throb. He could hardly feel his limbs—even his arm was no longer hurting him. Tony pulled his supporting arm away from his torso and assumed the regular running position, closing the gap between him and Summers with each stride. He wasn't completely incompetent though; he kept his arm close to his side to protect the broken bones from collisions with trees.

Summers glanced over his shoulder again, spying Tony only a few feet behind him. Summers sneered at Tony before sticking out his arm in an attempt to strong-arm the NCIS agent, hopefully striking his broken ribs. Tony pulled back to avoid the hit, slowing slightly to stay balanced. Summers took this opportunity to speed up, increasing the distance between the two again.

Tony gritted his teeth before pouring on the speed and catching up to Summers again. He threw his uninjured side into the criminal in a tackle that would have made his college football coach proud. As Summers fell, he smacked his head on a nearby tree and hit the ground inert. Since Summers had been obliging enough to offer himself as a pillow, Tony managed to avoid landing on his torso, catching himself with his hands and avoiding injuring yet another body part.

Tony grabbed the gun Ziva had given him and trained it on Summers, who shuddered once before opening his eyes. As he realized his situation, he reached for the gun attached to his belt.

"Go ahead," Tony growled at the man, "Make my day."

Summers stared incredulously at the man who he had beaten up twice, and locked in a burning lab. And yet, here he was! Holding him at gunpoint, and making cheesy movie references! The fed had outsmarted him yet again! He sighed heavily before interlacing his hands behind his head and rolling on his stomach.

Tony reached for his cell phone, quickly realizing his was in Jerome's bag.

"You don't mind if I borrow yours, right?" Tony asked, grabbing Summers' before the criminal could answer.

"You're slipping in your old age, boss. You missed one," Tony panted as he heard the Lead Agent pick up the phone.

"I thought I told you to stay in the car, DiNozzo." Tony jumped slightly, hearing Gibbs' voice right behind him.

"He was getting away," Tony protested.

"And you didn't think we could catch him?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Well, boss, everyone knows about your knee and McGee got body slammed out of van and Ziva was nowhere in sight…" Tony trailed off, faltering slightly under Gibbs' steady glare.

"That's a good job, Dirty Harry," Gibbs clapped Tony on the shoulder, having overheard the conversation between Tony and Summers. He quickly assessed his agent: Tony was breathing quickly and shallowly, in an attempt to not move his ribcage while inhaling. His face was coated in a sweaty sheen and he looked even paler than before—if it was possible to be paler than a sheet. His right arm was back against his torso, guarding his ribs from any unnecessary attacks.

"Why don't you sit down?" Gibbs asked, seeing Tony begin to sway slightly. The adrenaline drained from his body as fast as it had come, leaving Tony feeling exhausted. Every body part returned to complaining about all the abuse it had received in the last day. At this rate, he'd be able to compete with the organ recitals in the retirement homes.

"Nah, Gibbs. I'm good," Tony replied. Despite all his effort to remain under control, the muzzle of his gun wavered wildly, alerting Gibbs to Tony's thinly veiled lie.

"DiNozzo. Sit. That's an order." Gibbs commanded, unholstering his own gun and training it on Summers.

"Okay, boss. If you say so." Tony obediently clicked on the safety of his weapon before sliding it into his waistband. The gun had gained weight in the last few seconds—it now felt like one of weights Ah-nold used to lift in his glory days.

He found a tree that was large enough to support him and leaned heavily on it while lowering himself to the ground. He grinned happily as he managed not to tweak anything else. The meager act of sitting had drained the rest of his energy. He rested his head against the tree, his eyelids feeling as if they were made of lead. Hearing the police sirens in the distance, Tony closed his eyes and allowed sleep to claim him.

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_Please leave me a review! I love hearing from you guys! :)_


	9. Chapter 9

_I swear this chapter multiplied by itself. By the time I was finished writing it, it was so incredibly long that I divided it into two chapters: the conclusion of the case and the Tony/Abby section. This is the conclusion to the case, _**with**_ mention of Abby for those who were wondering. Fear not! The next chapter is ONLY about our favorite duo!_

_**A/N:**__ I found some spoilers for Season 8! I won't post them here for those who don't want to know, but they're on my profile page if you're interested._

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"Wake up my little hairy butt." A voice drifted through Tony's dreams. It was Ziva. He was fully awake now but it was too much effort to open his eyes. He focused his energy on remaining awake, continuing to lean heavily against the tree.

"TONY!" Ziva yelled.

"Heard you the first time Zee-vah," Tony muttered drowsily, feeling the Mossad assassin jump slightly beside him. He had startled Ziva, and he wasn't going to let her forget it anytime soon.

"Good. It is time to go. McGee talked Gibbs into letting him drive. He convinced Gibbs it was better for your well-being. Me, I'm not so sure. Gibbs is insisting we take you directly to a hospital…"

Tony funneled his remaining energy into forcing open his eyes.

"You serious?" He asked. She nodded.

Tony looked around for Gibbs, spotting him a short distance away. Gibbs chose that moment to look back at Tony, meeting his agent's gaze and walking briskly toward him.

"Boss. We already know what's wrong with me. Ducky can fix me up all by his lonesome. Really, there's no need to go the ER. My healthcare premiums are ridiculous as is…" Tony gave Gibbs a pleading look.

"Besides if you waiting for me at the hospital, you can't interrogate the suspects and I know how much fun you have in interrogation. You wouldn't miss that for the world…"

"Ya done?" Gibbs questioned.

"Yeah," Tony sighed, bracing himself for the Gibbs-slap he knew was coming.

After a few seconds of pain-free silence, Tony cracked open one eye. Gibbs was watching him with an amused expression on his face. Ziva was next to Gibbs, grinning widely.

"You were saying?" Gibbs inquired around a half-grin.

"Ziva told me you were…" Realizing he's been tricked, Tony glared at Ziva. "You lied to me!"

"No, Tony, I didn't. I strained the truth a little."

"It's _stretched_, Ziva. And it's still a form of lying." Tony turned his gaze to Gibbs. "So, no hospital?" he asked hopefully.

"Not this time," Gibbs paused as a smile lit up Tony's face, "But only 'cause it's too much of a hassle—paperwork and all. And you know what cafeteria coffee tastes like..."

"Aw boss. And here I thought you didn't care."

"Still don't, DiNozzo." Despite his callous words, Gibbs let his blank mask slip for a moment to let his agent see how truly worried he had been before steeling his features and continuing. "Ya ready to go?"

Tony reached out a hand, silently asking Gibbs to help him up. He supported his ribcage with his arm, pushing off the car with his shoulders as Gibbs caught his hand and gently eased him to his feet.

"How is our Human Cannonball?" Tony inquired as they reached the road.

"McGee will be fine. He just got the wind kicked out of him," Ziva answered.

"I think you mean knocked."

"No, Tony. I mean kicked." Ziva demonstrated a perfect roundhouse kick without breaking stride.

"Oh," was all Tony could manage as he focused on making it to the car without face-planting.

Gibbs tossed the keys to McGee before helping Tony get settled in the backseat despite his agent's protests about being a grown man who is capable of buckling his own seat belt.

"Cheer up Tony!" Ziva chirped as she climbed into the seat next to him. "Remember my training on Saturday!" she chirped.

"Couldn't we reschedule, Ziva?" Tony begged as they headed back to NCIS.

"If you two don't shut up, I'll fight you both. Today." Gibbs barked. Needless to say, the rest of the trip was continued in silence.

Twenty minutes later, McGee navigated the sedan into a parking spot.

"Let's be clear DiNozzo," Gibbs affirmed. "If you do not visit Ducky immediately, you will be on desk duty faster than you can close a deal."

"That's pretty fast, boss. Are you sure—" Tony's cheeky reply was truncated by a Gibbs-slap.

"On it boss," Tony replied with a deep sigh.

* * *

"Ducky," Tony called as the Autopsy doors slid open. The far end of the room was cordoned off, debris and soot scattered in the area underneath the gaping hole in the ceiling. On the way down, Tony had eavesdropped on a conversation in the elevator, learning that the explosion had wiped out Abby's lab, but the lockdown features had contained the damage to her lab only. The rest of the building was deemed structurally sound, and the agents had been allowed to return to work.

Ducky was already hard at work, removing the heart of a "poor soul" and placing it on the scale.

"Anthony. I've been expecting you." Ducky pulled off his bloody gloves and approached Tony. "I am glad to see you are alive, my boy. I have heard an accurate description of today's events from our lovely Abigail so I will know when you are lying to me about the injuries you may or may not have incurred."

Tony opened his mouth to defend himself against Ducky's unfair statement, but decided it wasn't worth the argument with the Scotsman. He wanted to get out of Autopsy before sunrise tomorrow.

"How is Abby?" Tony asked, successfully changing the subject.

"Our lotus blossom has suffered a mild concussion, miscellaneous cuts and bruises from the explosion and a rather nasty laceration on forehead. She is sleeping in my office; I gave her a mild sedative to speed her recuperation. She will remain under my supervision for the next twenty-four hours. Abigail will be completely healed within the next few days, though she will be extremely sore in the morning. I hear our Director gave her the week off, since her lab has been decimated—it will be good for the poor girl. I believe she has accumulated more vacation time than you and Gibbs combined. Our wildflower said she would be visiting the City of Lights while her lab is being rebuilt," Ducky recounted, motioning for Tony to take a seat on the only empty autopsy table.

"Paris, my boy!" Ducky explained, seeing Tony's puzzled look. "Now let's have a look at you!"

Ducky had finished taking Tony's vitals when Gibbs marched through the sliding doors.

"We've only just begun," Ducky informed Gibbs. "But I can tell you with certainty that young Anthony has not suffered a punctured lung as a result of his broken ribs. Now, I must ask you to leave unless Anthony does not mind your presence."

"It's fine Ducky," Tony waved Gibbs further into the room. "He's already diagnosed me for himself," Tony frowned, unhappily recalled Gibbs' earlier 'examination'. "Your bedside manner sucks, boss. You could use a few lessons from Ducky!"

"Keep it up DiNozzo," Gibbs growled. "Mandatory unpaid sick leave is still on the table."

Tony shut up immediately.

"Can you take off your jacket, Anthony?" Ducky asked, trying to focus Gibbs and Tony on the task at hand.

Tony shrugged off his jacket, sadly acknowledging its current state. "They don't pay me enough for this, boss." Tony mourned, rubbed his thumb along the collar of his suit. "I need a raise."

"Don't we all!" Ducky remarked, carefully untying McGee's handkerchief. Ducky tsk-ed when he saw the wound, which had scabbed over, but was puffy and yellowish around the edges.

"You are beginning an infection my dear boy. Could you take off your shirt so I can examine it more closely?"

As Tony stripped off his shirt, Ducky's face took on a solemn, unreadable expression as he discovered the massive bruising on Tony's side. "Anthony, what could you _possibly_ have done to deserve this abuse?"

"I don't know Ducky," Tony looked innocently at the Medical Examiner. "I was my usual self…"

"I was afraid of that," Ducky tutted as he gathered his medical supplies.

"Ouch, Ducky! You wanna get me some ice for that burn?" Tony clutched his chest, a exaggerated look of pain on his face.

Ducky quickly returned to examining Tony's arm. "That will need a few stitches after we disinfect the wound. The good news is, if you manage to take good care of this, you will not need a sling. However, if you return in a few days, and it is not healing properly, I will very publicly mandate that you wear one."

When Ducky was finished, he handed Tony a prescription for oral antibiotics and moved on to the broken bones. He palpated Tony's side as gently as possible, but by the time Ducky was done, the Senior Field Agent was sweating profusely and was paler than a sheet of paper. His face was contorted into a permanent wince though he had not made a sound during Ducky's inspection. Throughout the whole ordeal, Gibbs stood behind his agent, one hand protectively grasping Tony's good shoulder.

Relief flooded through Tony as Ducky began bandaging his torso. His uneven hitched gasps relaxed into slow, regular breaths and bringing air into his lungs no longer required a Herculean effort.

"Can I go yet Ducky?" Tony pleaded, as soon as Ducky . "El Jefe is gonna interrogate Summers and Jerome any minute now! Right, boss?" Gibbs nodded affirmatively.

"Just let me take a quick look at your facial injuries, then I will write you a clean bill of health…_under_ the stipulation that you will return every two days to have your more serious wounds reexamined."

True to his word, Ducky made the rest of the exam quick, concluding the exam by examining Tony's nose, eliciting a hiss of pain from the agent.

"You're quite lucky laddie: it is not fractured."

"I knew that already, Duckman," Tony grumbled, holding the bridge of his nose to ease the new throbbing. "When are you doing to start listening to—"

"You have any medical training, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, his head slap interrupting Tony's soliloquy.

"Does watching the M*A*S*H marathon last weekend count?" Tony asked hopefully.

The second stinging sensation at his crown gave him his answer. "Guess not," he muttered with a frown, gently rubbing the back of his head.

"Then let the man do his job. I'll see you in observation when you're finished," Gibbs stated while walking out of the room.

"No need Jethro. My examination is complete. Young Anthony can leave with you," Ducky called to Gibbs' retreating form.

Tony eased himself off the autopsy table, heading for the door as fast as his battered body would let him.

"Thanks Duck!" he called, sliding between the elevator doors at the possible last second.

* * *

Up in interrogation, Jerome and Parton were sitting in separate rooms. Ziva had decided they were the more likely to confess than Summers and Tom Jesse, the fourth partner.

Parton had been sitting alone for the last half an hour. While Tony headed into observation, Gibbs threw open the door to interrogation with such force that it slammed into the wall with an incredibly loud bang.

"I want a deal!" Parton cried as Gibbs stormed through the door. She continued babbling, tears rolling down her face. She had confessed in less than a minute—a new record for Gibbs. The Lead Agent turned to the one-way glass, a sincere smile crossing his features. This was going to be a piece of cake.

And so went the rest of the interrogations. Parton and Jerome took the deals, giving up the plan and its components in record time while Summers and Jesse sat silently, despite being told that their partners had rolled on them. With two full confessions in hand and four pending arrests, the team reconvened in the squad room less than an hour later.

"The fingerprints on Parton's file are not hers. Her real name is Joanna Buxley, arrested and tried three times for armed assault in as many cities," McGee recited to his fellow teammates who were standing around the plasma. "She and the others have a mutual connection, Tom Jesse, who suggested the plan to them. They were going to split the cash evenly after it spent six months in the Cayman Island account."

"How much money was in that armored car anyway?" Tony asked.

"Millions," a voice boomed from directly behind Tony. He jumped slightly, frowning when he realized the voice belonged to the Director. _Dammit, he'd let the Toothpick sneak up on him_. He was losing his muchness if he could no longer protect himself against surprise attacks from his co-workers.

"You did our country a great service today," Vance continued. "They were planning on stealing the bills and replacing them with newspaper clippings. Summers and Jerome were going to impersonate the drivers and Jesse would act as the Secret Service agent. That way the delivered money would appear to be legitimate and would not raise any immediate red flags. By the time the real drivers came forward, the evidence would have been burned and nothing further could be done. The Secret Service sends their thanks."

"Gibbs," Vance gave his Lead Agent a curt nod before turning to Tony and holding out his hand.

Tony cocked his head, trying to decide if the Director was serious, before grasping Vance's hand firmly and shaking it.

"That's good work DiNozzo," Vance called as he left the bullpen.

Tony could not believe what had just happened. He stood stock-still, his eyes as wide as saucers, his mouth having literally dropped open. He stared at his hand in disbelief.

"Did he just—" he began.

"Yup," McGee answered.

"And said that—"

"Yup."

"To _me_?"

"Yes Tony!" Ziva exclaimed, mildly irritation creeping into her tone.

Tony remained motionless for another minute before rearranging the shocked look on his face into a genuine grin. He was literally glowing as he floated back to his desk and reclined his chair. He carefully interlaced his hands behind his head and put his feet up on his desk. He stored the events of the last minute for future reference.

"I think he's starting to like me."

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_One more chapter to go! Let me know what you think! I PROMISE the next chapter has Abby in it. In fact, it's all about Tony and Abby! :)_

_I have the best reviewers hands-down! You guys are awesome! I love hearing from you! :)_


	10. Chapter 10

_The final chapter!_

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_One week later…_

Tony walked into Abby's completely empty lab. Well, it wasn't really a lab anymore, since there was absolutely no equipment in the room. The room's only occupants were the computer bank in the main lab and a desk in Abby's private office, both of which were devoid of the customary electronics. Vance had put a rush job on the contractors in order to have the room completely ready for the machines in just a week.

Yet, the death metal was blaring loudly from a CD player stationed on top of Abby's desk while the Goth was hard at work, taping out where her new soldiers would stand. She looked up as Tony walked in.

"TONNNYYYY!" she squealed, sprinting toward her friend.

"Abby! ABBY! No! NO! Stop! Sit! Stay!" Tony panicked frantically, bracing himself for impact as Abby came closer and closer.

Just before colliding with him, Abby came to a full-stop and gently draped her arms around Tony, giving a very gentle hug. She pulled away grinning smugly at the surprised look on Tony's face.

"I'm so glad you're here! Do you want to hear about Paris? Of course you do! I visited the catacombs, which, by the way, were completely unbelievable. I'd bet there was about a hundred undiagnosed murders in all those bones. How did the police manage without Mass Specs and AFIS scanners? Then I took the stairs all the way to the top of the Eiffel Tower—statistically, more people are killed in elevators each year than in stairwells, and I was not going to die in Paris—it doesn't even make my top ten. Oooo! And the pastries—they were to die for! I could have sat there all day in the cafés dog-watching—they have the cutest little dogs in Paris! I need to take vacations more often! I came home just in time though: look at my new lab!" Abby skipped around the room as she recounted her vacation.

"Vance promised me brand new, top-of-the-line equipment, the newest-of-the-new, the best-of-the-best! I think Gibbs had something to do with that, but that's beside the point…all new soldiers just for me! Speaking of our silver fox, he came by yesterday with a Chocoholic's Choice cupcake—I ate it before McGee could steal it. Our resident thief was right though: it _was_ life changing! And since my whole CD collection was, like, totally destroyed, Ziva brought me the newest Brainmatter CD yesterday. That's what you're listening to now—isn't it great? Then Mr. MIT came by yesterday with Bert 2.0!" she continued, pausing to pet the hippo which was perched on the empty computer bank. "He had to have it special ordered and put a rush job on the delivery so it'd be here with my new equipment." She paused to take a breath, coming to rest in front of Tony.

"So…what's new with you?"

Tony reached out and ran his thumb along the fading cut on Abby's forehead, the muscles in his jaw tightening as the movement caused his arm to twinge slightly.

"I'm so sorry Abby," Tony apologized, shaking his head sadly. "That and the concussion…I should have protected you better."

"That's bullshit Anthony DiNozzo," she stated firmly, noting the surprised expression on Tony's face. It was not like her to use such strong language; the day of the incident was an exception since someone she loved dearly had been in danger. And by 'loved' she meant _cares for deeply as a friend_', not _I spend the rest of my life with you_. "I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times. This was not your fault," she paused, a sad expression crossing her features as she remembered the explosion. "How many times do I have to tell you not to apologize?"

"At least once more Miss Swan," Tony quoted with a smile. Abby struggled to remain serious for a long moment, before giving in, her smile as wide as Tony's own.

"So what brings you to the Lab of Abby on your day off? It _is_ Saturday you know…" Abby inquired.

"I brought you this," Tony pulled an extra-large Caf-Pow! from behind his back.

Abby shrieked and ran behind the computer bank, ducking for cover.

"What? It's just a Caf-Pow!" Tony continued hurriedly, confused by Abby's reaction.

"Don't you remember what happened the last time you brought me one of those? Two idiots kidnapped us and blew up my lab!"

"Yeah, but Abby, there are two main differences. One, it's from me, not Gibbs. Two, it's to apologize, not to congratulate. I'm sorry your lab was destroyed and you got hurt in the process." He clarified, lowering his head and speaking to the floor.

Abby peeked her head over the computer bank, her eyes darting back and forth as she waited for…whatever she was waiting for. When nothing happened, Abby took a deep breath before darting over to where Tony stood.

"You're not Superman, Tony," she reminded him, eagerly plucking the Caf-Pow! from his grasp. "You can't catch bullets, absorb explosions into your back or grow Adamantium claws between your knuckles."

"Is that so?" Tony questioned. "I always knew there was a lot more to life than being really, really, ridiculously good looking."

"Tony! This is serious!" Abby cried, swatting his good arm.

Tony's smile dropped immediately. "I'm sorry Abs. Please continue."

"As I was saying, you managed to rescue me, like, a billion times. Well, that's an exaggeration—it was like five. But still, that's a lot in one day. And then you had to go and get yourself beat-up on top of that! Those bruises," she pointed to his jaw and cheek, "just weren't enough, were they? You had to go mouth off to Summers and add broken and cracked ribs to the list?"

"Symmetry, Abs. Two broken, two cracked. That's what makes the world go round," Tony quipped. "And it would have been a lot worse if I'd've gone with Ziva last Saturday," he added seriously. "I charmed her out of it—well, I think Ducky spoke to her on my behalf. Anyway, she asked McGee; the poor Probie's still not walking straight!"

Abby's gaze met Tony's and he could see the internal debate about whether to swat him again him or not. The _not__s_ apparently won for she grabbed a brown box from the top of her lab table. "This is for you to thank you for saving my life. I don't think I can ever repay the favor."

"Aw, Abby! You didn't have to…" Tony fumbled.

Abby shrugged, handing him the package. "Just open it."

Tony pulled off the lid and stared in shock at its contents.

"_No _way!" he pulled out a DVD case from the box, laughing excitedly. "Abby! Do you know what this is?"

"Yup! _Magnum, P.I._ Season Eight. Digitally restored with cast interviews, commentary, blooper reels, deleted scenes and the Director's cut of "A Girl Named Sue" and both "Resolutions" episodes I believe. You might want to check out the inside…" she hinted.

Tony opened the front cover of the DVD case, whistling when he saw the signature.

"Abs! This is Tom Selleck's autograph! How did you…?" Tony trailed off, unable to find the words to express his excitement.

"I know a guy," Abby grinned.

"Abby! I don't know what to say!"

"I'd tell you to say thank you, but you've done more than enough for me already." She paused for a moment, considering what had just happened. "Wow! I've found one thing that leaves you speechless."

"Well, thank you Abby." Tony told her, but she was no longer listening.

"Ooh!" she squealed, looking over Tony's shoulder. "They're here!"

Tony turned to see delivery men entering the lab, bearing massively large boxes that could only be Abby's new equipment.

"Wanna help me unpack my new babies?" Abby asked hopefully.

"Sure, Abby." Tony tore his eyes away from _Magnum_ and left it on the computer table next to Bert 2.0.

Abby unpacked the first box, pulling out her AFIS fingerprint scanner. She looked at it for a long time before pulling it close to her chest, hugging the machine and rocking it from side to side. "The Queen of the Land returns!" she cried happily.

"Here," she tossed Tony a camera. "Get a picture for me, will ya?"

"Caf-Pow! on three. One, two…"

And so the afternoon went: unpacking, assembling, snapping and arranging. The last item unpacked was Abby's Mass Spectrometer. She grabbed the camera from Tony and fiddled with it for a few seconds. She placed it on top of the gas chromatograph, the front flashing.

"What's it doing?" Tony questioned.

"Get in the picture," Abby motioned. "Quick!"

Tony hurried to the other side of the Major and squatted down, smiling widely.

The flash went off. Abby got up quickly, snatching the camera and snapping one of Tony alone next to the machine.

"Future Facebook profile picture?" she grinned evilly, turning the camera so Tony could see.

Tony glanced at the picture, a horrified expression dawning on his face. He had a slightly aloof expression on his face, and, with the wide grin and one arm draped around the Major, he looked completely at home in Abby's lab. In fact, he looked geeky, a cross between Palmer and Chip.

"Abigail Scuito," he warned. "If you show that picture to anyone, so help me—"

"I wonder what your future girlfriends would say about your inner geek?"

"Abby! I will forcefully abduct that—"

"I _could_ Photoshop some coke bottle glasses on you. Maybe a pocket protector and some second-hand plaid—"

"Abs! Don't you dare!" Tony threatened, starting for the camera.

Abby squealed and ran out of the lab, yelling about what else she would add to his picture.

Tony pressed his arm tightly against his side before taking off after her. That picture was too damaging to his carefully constructed frat boy image!

The agents in evidence lock-up observed as a woman in a lab coat, spider web tattoos, high ponytails and six inch platform military boots ran past, holding up a camera and shrieking. As they continued to watch, they saw a tall, handsome Italian man, who looked like he'd lost a pretty bad fight, pursue her up the stairs and into the squad room, yelling at the woman to stop and hand over the camera. The agents realized who these two worked for and returned to their work without saying a word. It was not worth the confrontation with Agent Gibbs.

Vance observed Tony and Abby's antics from his perch outside his office. He opened his mouth to reprimand their childish behavior, before closing it again without saying a word. The two _had_ just foiled a major bank heist, and if this was how they chose to act on their day off, so be it. He'd let it slide this time.

_Maybe he wasn't such a hard-ass after all,_ Vance grinned to himself as he headed back into his office.

_At least where Team Gibbs was concerned…_

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_And so, that is the end of _24 Hours of Summers_! I hope you had as much fun reading it_ a_s I had writing it!_

_I can't believe the incredible support I received for this story—the reviews, story alerts, and favorites were unbelievable! Special thanks to everyone who continued to read this story or subscribed to it in some manner. You are amazing!_

_I hope the ending was satisfying. Let me know what you think of the ending or the whole story in general. Reviews are the Caf-Pow! to my Abby, the sawdust to my Gibbs, the computers to my McGee, the toothpicks to my Vance, the English tea to my Ducky, the weapons collection to my Ziva, and the Armani suit and Zegna shoes to my Tony!_

_Until the next story!_

_Always,_

_usa123_


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